L: Past Times
by Orangey10
Summary: It is scientific fact to say that even the strangest person has their qualities influenced, whether it be family, friends or environment - and nothing was ever fixed from birth. But then what was L influenced by? COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1: The Move

_A little dishevelled._

Thus were the first thoughts of the scrawny little boy that stood stiffly in front of Quilish Wammy. His thoughts were mainly directed towards the mop of black hair that the boy had done all he could to tame. Otherwise, he could have mistaken him for any old urchin from the orphanage down the road.

"Sit down," he said calmly, gesturing the elaborately decorated Victorian chair that faced his writing-desk. The boy started to look incredulously at the elderly man, but jerked back, as if to change his mind, and gingerly sat down as though he was afraid it would fall apart at his touch.

"His name is Lawliet," the woman behind him spat. "Be a good boy, Lawliet. This nice man is offering to take you off my hands!" she smiled queasily, although it didn't reach her eyes.

The boy looked even more uncomfortable when the garishly dressed middle-aged woman spoke in her sickly sweet tones – that was evident to Wammy from the very start. His dangerously pallid face remained expressionless, if not blank. Even if his face expressed calm, his hands were gripping his knees so hard that the small knuckles were white. His feet were also 'scratching' each other – _as if he's not used to shoes?_ Wammy questioned.

"L." he interrupted, remembering the first name on the birth certificate. The boy remained blankly staring at the wall in front of him, screwing up his face every so often.

"Sir, that's not my name." he said quietly, screwing up his eyes, prepared for what was to come.

Sure enough, a sharp _crack_ startled Wammy as the woman knocked the boy on the head. "Don't be foolish, Lawliet! L is your name, whether you like it or not; come back to your senses and do what Mr. Wammy tells you to do," she snapped.

"That is not necessary, Mrs King. Corporal punishment is not under my jurisdiction outside of my orphanage, but could you please refrain from doing so inside the premises," he said promptly, keeping a calm expression on his face.

"Of course, Mr. Wammy," she reverted back to her tones. The boy shook his head a little, but with slightly more care than what was usual. Was he used to this?

"Mr. Lawliet, what do you think of this?" he placed a puzzle under the wide eyes. He bent over, pulling his chair in, again flinching at the scratching sound it made against the marble. After peering down at it for some time, the boy craned his head around the chair frame, much to the anticipation of Mrs King and Wammy.

"This doesn't tell me anything." He mumbled, almost letting his voice trail off. Wammy would have laughed at Mrs King's aghast and absolutely horrified face.

"I _am_ sorry, Mr. Wammy, I have wasted your time, I…"

"On the contrary, you may leave him with me. Give my best to the director." He smiled.

Mrs King gaped. "What?"

"This," he grasped the piece of paper to reveal an obscure pattern. "would not tell you the slightest thing."

"But then, wouldn't I have figured tha----"

"It is a smaller piece of the puzzle." He interrupted.

"What?" Mrs King said again, lost.

"Many of the children who are not so fortunate as to pass through these doors try and wrangle through these, by trying to guess a picture out of these; some have even attempted words. A mark of a gifted child is realising that each piece matters towards the end product, no matter how insignificant, and that the simple truth cannot be denied – this child might make a good detective, madam."

Mrs King narrowed her eyes at the boy, who seemed to be filled with more confidence than ever before – having this prestigious-sounding man back him up was an impenetrable shield blocking him from her. His eyes had a boyish twinkle in them, and a smile was twitching on his face.

Without a word, she gave him the thin file and made for the door.

"Good day." Wammy said lightly.

"Goodbye, Lawliet!" she said in a sing-song tone as he recoiled in his chair. The horrid old woman was gone in his life with a bang of the front door. The boy still stared at the window at the woman as she walked down the road while Wammy made for his newest admission.

"Now, Mr. Lawliet, I will trust you to make yourself comfortable while I get some refreshments. What would you like?"

He took a deep breath. "Tea, please," he replied, waiting for some kind of retribution.

"Okay. How will you take it?"

The boy inched open one eye to face Wammy. "With… sugar, please."

"Alright then." He left the room gracefully, taking the file with him.

* * *

Wammy entered the room, tea with a sugar bowl in tow. What greeted him startled him so much he almost dropped the tea.

The previously stiff upper-lipped boy had taken off his shoes and socks and used the advantage of his bare feet to curl his legs under him while he hunched over.

"I've brought tea," he said, with as much calm as he could muster. The boy wheeled around and hastened to put his shoes and socks back on when Wammy insisted that it was alright, and he hesitatingly brought himself back to his position.

"I just want to ask you a couple of questions. They shouldn't be too trying," The boy nodded, staring nervously at the man.

"Is it alright if I call you L for the purposes of informality?" The boy flinched, but said nothing. "You may call me Wammy, everybody here does---"

"It is not so much an issue of formality as an issue of simple accuracy. L is not my real name." he interrupted.

Wammy started, before leaning in close to stare in the boy's eyes. "How do you know that I will not strike you as Mrs. King did but a few minutes ago for your impudence?" He narrowed his eyes for greater effect upon the boy, whose fingers gripped his knees harder.

"If you didn't hit me when I asked for what I wanted, then your generosity would probably extend upon me making myself comfortable, as you _said_." The boy babbled as he receded further and further into the cushy chair as Wammy closed in on him until the boy started breathing much more quickly than he had at the start of the session.

"What is your real name then?" he promptly asked. The boy was dumbfounded into silence. He stonily stared at the ground, toes curling, his eyelids closing slightly.

"L can be a nickname, you know." Wammy said kindly, leaning back and resting his chin on his clasped fingers, staring at the slight movement of the boy's eyes.

"A nickname?" he said disapprovingly. "I can't have a nickname for all my life, I can't have a nickname when I'm an adult!" he protested angrily.

Wammy was pleased.

"Then it could be an alias, a codename for when you're older. Something to use for convenience."

"An alias…" he said dumbfounded, staring at the floor again, but this time somewhat wistfully. His thoughts were interrupted by church bells in the distance.

"Ah, it's lunch. We can leave the questions 'til later. You might want to make some new friends in the dining hall – I'll show you the way," Wammy straightened out of his seat and beckoned out the door.

L followed warily.

* * *

"Hi, what's that?"

L looked up abruptly. A girl had sat down in front of him and was pointing at his food with some interest.

"Um, it's lasagne, or at least I believe it to be lasagne…"

"You haven't had it before, have you? I know the place down the road has horrible food." she interrupted him.

"Um." L replied slowly and somewhat uncomfortably, looking at the girl who was slowly moving a part of her short auburn hair behind her ear as she stared at him intently. "How did you know that I came from St. Geralds'?"

"You pronounced 'lasagne' wrongly, it's not 'lasag-ne', more 'lasanyuh', and you've been hit," she looked up from her lunch. "A lot,"

"That doesn't necessarily mean that I was struck," L didn't know why he was defending his former matron, but the way the girl had known some things, just like that, disturbed him.

"I've never heard of someone pushing a certain place on your head that hard before," she winced, gesturing to a pointedly flat spot in L's eclectic hair. "Death by Squishing. Yucky," L dejectedly stared at the food, suddenly not wanting to eat any more. As if the girl noticed this as well, her face broke out into a genial grin, a startling change from the lethargic weariness in her face earlier.

"What's your name?"

"L." he said defiantly, and a bit too soon.

"Good to meet you. I'm Eve." She replied, stealing some of his lasagne in the process.

L stared at her curiously. _What?_ He tentatively took some of her pasta and ate it. She slightly pushed her plate over towards L's direction, and he did the same.

"Copycat," she muttered, before completely swapping the plates around. However, as soon as she got the lasagne, she ate with renewed force.

"Did you mean to…take it from the beginning?"

"I like lasagne. Tastes good." She said with a degree of childish finality in her voice.

There was a small pause in the conversation, while the two children dug in to their new dishes.

"How old are you?" she said with her mouth full.

"I am 11. And you?" he said with a bit of loftiness in his voice.

"10. You're older than me." She said, gulping lasagne down. "Hang on, are you taking sessions today?"

"Sessions?"

"They're classes, but Wammy feels the proper word for them is sessions." She finished her meal and rested her head on her arms, staring L down, even though she still had quite a bit to go in catching up to the scrawny boy in height.

"I'm not sure. But we would not be together, if you're curious. There is a year different between our ages." He said, slightly condescendingly.

"Uh-huh. But we're not sorted out by age, we're just bundled together in groups. We used to think it was sorted out by ability, but they give people different work. Hence sessions." She shrugged. As she did so, the church bell from before clanged sharply. From that cue, the inhabitants of the hall stood up to clear their trays away.

L made a noise in his throat that indicated confusion and perhaps a bit of culture shock. At his previous orphanage, it took a megaphone and at least three helpers to bustle all the children out of the lunch hall. As he absently stared at the doors where everyone was disappearing into, Eve cleared her throat.

"Time's everything, L." she clucked her tongue at him.

"But it's just a bell…"

"And the people who ignore it miss the sessions, which would mean more catch-up work in your free time. I think Wammy calls it 'gradual accumulation'. It rings every 15 minutes.

L sighed at the new flow of information confronting him.

"Huh? Oh. Gimme your tray, and we put it down over there, the caretakers clear it up later."

As Eve got up, L noticed that unlike the other fairly stylish girls in the room, she wore a slightly-too-big shirt and jeans with sneakers. Her scraggly auburn hair was a bit too short for a ponytail, but a bit too long to be called a bob.

"Wammy?...Wammy!" she called over to the other side of the hall. Eve ran up to the smiling man and grinned up at him.

"Where's L's room?" the girl asked.

"26."

"Right," she gestured L. "Do you want me to take you there?"

"I'm sure I can find out myself," L retorted, still sore from Eve, a younger girl telling him what to do with the trays.

"Right," she looked at him unabashed, a playfully sarcastic look on her face. "I suppose, then, it would be helpful for you to know, that these rooms are not arranged in order, and I am _not_ going to tell you how they are sequenced," she tapped her foot. "Come on, this way." And she took the exhausted boy out of sight.

* * *

**A year later**

It turned out that L did enjoy work here. It was much more enjoyable than in the orphanage down the road.

"So, L, what was _your_ answer to Question 5?"

It was one of the few classes that all of the children took together – it was called 'PPEE (Politics, Philosophy, Economics and Ethics)', an improvement on the course offered at Oxford University.

_What is your idea of the afterlife, if any?_

"The afterlife, if indeed it does exist, would probably be something attuned to all our individual opinions."

It was an answer designed to avoid and yet answer the question at the same time, after all, he had more complicated maths problems sitting on his lap, just waiting to be answered.

"I see. Eve?"

He opened his ears, interested in what his companion was going to say, even if his face remained impassive.

"I think that if an afterlife exists, it would be one where we lived life again and put right our mistakes." Eve answered.

"Would you mean (here the teacher coughed) the concept of reincarnation?"

"No," she said simply. "Merely to right your wrongs in your own self, rather than stick your wrongs in the mind of a person who has no idea what to do."

There were a few titters from one side of the classroom as Eve leant back in her chair, also to do some other work, but they weren't to do with maths – rather language. She was engaged in the un-translated version of Don Quixote.

As what was commonly known as the most boring class for everyone in Wammy's House droned on and on, L was casually solving A-Level maths problems at the age where one would be taking their secondary school exams.

"Class Dismissed." L let out an annoyed sigh. He had one problem left, and even though his next Maths Session was the next afternoon, the fact that the ends in his Maths homework were not tied up irked him greatly.

Before he could get caught up in irritation too early, Wammy stood in front of L's path, Eve following him curiously.

"You don't need to go to your next session." He said benignly. L stared confusedly at him while Eve's eyes slowly twinkled with anticipation.

"There is a lecture today which will take place in 5 minutes. It is in the assembly hall."

"Um, Mr. Wammy…who is speaking?"

"He is a doctor, a prominent figure in the field of diagnostics." Eve's smile widened suddenly.

"But, Mr. Wammy…I've never been interested in Medicine. I took Further Mathematics and Law as my other two session subjects…?"

"Oh, I forgot one other thing. He is very skilled at employing…deduction…to solve his medical cases. Many patient people find him very interesting. I believe I took Eve to see his lecture two years ago, before you enrolled."

Eve nodded, excitement filling her body.

* * *

There were only ten or so people in the assembly hall, and all of them, L had recognised, were in Medicine Sessions.

"The speaker, as all of you should be aware, is a highly prominent figure in the field of medicine, and he recently became head of Diagnostic Medicine in a prominent hospital in the United States. In fact, as his new duties (here he gave a barely-concealed eye-roll) occupy his time so readily, it took quite a bit of persuasion to invite him to speak today."

Eve leaned her arms on the vacant seat in front of her as L tucked his knees and inclined his head vaguely in the direction of the stage.

"Well, without any further ado…I give you…"

Wammy stepped back as a tall wiry man lethargically took the stairs to the stage.

"Dr. Gregory House, M.D.!"

**A/N: I'm not crossovering this with House, MD because you don't need to know anything about him to understand what goes on in the next chapter (plus he's only going to be in a few, Death Note is the main fandom here). Hope you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Lecture

A tall man took the stage in the large hall to face the ten students – although his long face bore a grumpy expression and his clothes and hair were only this close to having been assumed to come straight out of bed, the 10 students bar L were eagerly waiting for something to happen.

Or for Wammy to go.

As if he got the hint, Wammy departed swiftly from the hall, leaving a stony silence as House glared at the students. L was slightly apprehensive.

As the door shut with a quiet tone, House decisively went to the back of the stage, pulled out a chair and sat on it, directly avoiding the podium.

"So, fellas. What've you got for me?" His gravelly New Jersey accent asserted itself, as House's eyes focussed on the people in front.

"Let's see who's left. 1. 2. 4,5,6. You guys always come as a three. 8. 10. 11, 15. And…oh god, not a new one." House said disdainfully.

"I'm L." the boy said coolly.

"Seriously?!" House double-taked in mock surprise. "Weird. What do you have for me?" He directed his attention to the front row

'2' got up hurriedly, as while straightening his thick-rimmed glasses, he produced a thick pile of paper from nowhere. "Dr. House, I have written a dissertation on the effect that correct diagnoses can have on the proper decorum surrounding particular ethical issues."

"Boring." House barked.

10 got up. "Well, Dr. House, instead of the obviously unneeded dissertation that Frederick has wrote for nothing, I have here a simple essay detailing the sometimes misleading results that tox screens can uncover----"

"Simple essays don't have detail, as a rule. And physical examinations, patient's histories and examining the patient's home are there because?"

"Because…tox screens might be unreliable," The severely embarrassed student sat down, staring at the floor.

"Boring," he barked again. "Four hundred and fifty six, what have you got?"

Four smoothed down her skirt, flushing slightly. "We don't _always_ stick to each other," she indicated her friends, five and six, who were staring reproachfully at the lecturer. "We have produced a joint project on the possibility of a new drug for the relief of cardiac strain,"

"Oh _please_," House squinted at the booklet. "That's a carbon copy of Sean Brennan's paper in June 1936. I'm not _that_ stupid!" he said, making dopey eyes at the girls who winced and promptly left the room.

"Boooooring." House mouthed. "Ya know, Wammy tells me that he teaches his students to think outside of the box and last year, I tell them to think about what I've said, and come back with something interesting for the next time I come back----"

"You didn't tell us exactly what we were meant to do!" 11 retorted.

"Does Mr. Life leave printed instructions at your door every day? I think not. You!" he pointed at 15. "What do you have for me?"

"You…you wouldn't approve." House rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, let's have it. It might be good."

"Well," the girl gained confidence. "I researched----"

"Oh, you were right. Too bad." House blew out his cheeks as he leaned back in his chair – the majority of the students were starting to vacate the hall.

"You have a girlfriend." Eve piped up. "And it's serious?" she asked, ignoring the startled glances from the other students.

L wheeled around, mortified amidst some curious looks from the others at the 11-year-old. However, he heard a deep chuckle coming from the front.

"Now. Why do you say that?"

"Someone's got you to wear a jacket, and shave. Properly. In fact, unless you have a male friend who's got _incredibly_ good style (comparing to you), I think a woman you trust is clothing you most days. Last year was a shambles. Hence serious." Eve said, while focussed on the man.

The medical students paused on their way to the door.

Eve tentatively said, "Is she the Stacy McPherson who's handling the law lecture today?

"Huh." House raised his eyebrow slightly while looking at her. "Eve, wasn't it?"

The aforementioned girl nodded. "And you've brought the new guy! At least there's (House scanned L briefly, causing the other to twitch) nothing wrong with _him_,"

Eve looked in a surly way towards the ground. "Mm."

It was the first time that L had seen Eve look this discomforted. House had seemed to realise he was on dangerous ground, but he didn't do anything about it.

"Um, if you will permit me to ask," L stumbled on his words as he changed the subject. "How does you having a girlfriend got to do with medicine?"

House rolled his eyes once more. "God. Don't you people in this…(he turned around to look at a mural on the wall) 'Home for the Talented yet Impoverished' have brains?"

"Mr. Wammy I'm sure takes pains to bring in talented children which pass the standard that he expects." L retorted.

"How can you be sure that he isn't bribed by _rich_ parents that just want their spoilt child," at this, he looked pointedly at L. "Out of the way?"

L narrowed his eyes and focussed his glare on Houses' bright blue ones.

"Wammy asks me here to talk about what I do. Not just Medicine. You know how an effective diagnosis is carried out?"

"Well, it would generally require a sound medical mind and a good sense of intuition." L adjusted his position on the seat before realising that would have made him seem uncomfortable.

"Along with good..." here House stroked an imaginary beard, thinking of the word. "Deductive Skills." House smiled wryly at his interrogator.

"Like Sherlock Holmes?" a dubious student said.

He stared down his two most interesting students. "Eve. Boy over there,"

Eve craned her head around the auditorium chair to look at number 8, who looked suddenly very worried.

"Where is he going after this 'lecture'?"

L butted in before Eve could say anything. "Oxbridge interviews; his hair is slicked back very vigorously, his tie is on too tight, and he has put much too much shoe polish on."

"Along with the fact that he has stolen David's cologne." Eve said playfully. Number 8's friends guffawed at him while he flushed red in embarrassment.

"Yup. You could tell that he doesn't do this kind of thing often, huh?" House mused.

As the remaining number of the lecture group vanished, House, ignoring them, uncrumpled a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out over the table.

"See this?" He said. "What does it say?"

L and Eve squinted to see that what they thought was extremely poor handwriting was actually a cipher. As Eve frowned, L's eyes began flitting to and fro, from one element to another. Eve jolted with a realisation and snatched the paper away.

"They're numbers! 5 in Chinese characters…1 in Hindi…" On the back of the paper, she replaced all of the symbols with the numbers that they presented.

7 4 19 8 18 7 7  
19 19 26 6 13 19 26  
12 12 5 24 18 8  
8 22 24 8 16  
22 22  
22  
23  
22  
23

11 7 7 19 15 12 7 15  
9 12 19 18 22 21 19 22  
12 22 20 5 22 26  
24 19 22 18 9  
22 22 15 9 13  
22 9 18  
23 13  
20

"And…they still don't make any sense," she sighed, irritated. House smirked.

"Yes they do," L said excitedly. "If you make a value chart, beginning from A = 26 to Z=1…" He demonstrated on another scrap piece of paper, hastily torn from House's notepad.

"But it's the other way around…" House said numbly.

"Everything's possible." L replied, showing him the deciphered copy. Eve looked on.

"So then…" Eve snatched it back and wrote it out properly.

"'_Those who have succeeded in this task/Proceed to the next level of their learning.'_ That's a quote from somewhere…" Eve looked to the ceiling, deep in thought.

"What does that bit say, then?" House said, still slightly awed. "It doesn't make sense with your solution."

"Well…" L looked at the hastily scrawled corner of the original cipher for only a moment. "You just do it the other way around. Like you said. A = 1 and Z = 26, so that would be…"

"Well, you've passed, as I'm sure you're aware. Wammy'll be pleased," he looked over the pair once more before snatching the cipher back and stuffing it in his pocket. His eyes looked faintly wistful. He then retained his familiar disdainful look as he looked at the pair of them.

"I still don't know why he chooses among you brats." He scowled and walked briskly off the stage.

L looked vaguely confused as he showed his cipher to Eve. After squinting at the appalling handwriting, she read it.

"_Yet those who have failed this task/Should know better than to once more ask,"  
Said the wise gentleman to the eager marine._

"That's not a quote," Eve muttered as she listened to House's footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

**A/N: Please review if you read it!!**


	3. Chapter 3: Detective Detects

**A/N: As ever, thankyouthankyouthankyou to my beta, ...SarcasticChocolateBar? I think that's her penname. Anyway...**

Even when one year had passed, L and Eve were still befriended.

L narrowly dodged a kick from Eve, as, realising she missed, crouched and grabbed L's arm, sending him hurtling down the sports gym. L got back up, in the manner not unlike a frazzled cockroach.

"I thought we were warming up?" he panted.

"Those who make the first move win," Eve calmly replied, with her trademark grin. "Unarmed combat is as much about using your arms as your legs." she flicked her hair out of her face.

"I would prefer my legs to be damaged than my arms, and more importantly my hands." L doggedly stared down at his superior opponent.

They sparred once more, L kicking from the ground or hooking his leg on one of Eves' to try and bring her down to the ground, but even at 12, Eve was fairly experienced with martial arts – and she absorbed new skills quickly.

"You know, L…"she began before she suddenly reeled with the force of L's unexpected right hook. Eve squinted from the floor at L rubbing his fist in pain. "You said…"

"Everybody lies, right?" L smirked jovially. The expression of pride quickly changed into one of concern when Eve crouched inwardly, and shuddered while cradling her jaw. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

He abruptly launched upwards by a high kick.

"Likewise." Eve countered, while both grinned (somewhat painfully) at each other.

They faced each other in the middle of the sports gym and bowed respectfully. After a few moments, Eve briskly began, "Hajime!"

L crouched to avoid her attempted throw.

"We should look at Wammy's latest exercise," Eve said panting while cart-wheeling to the back of L. He grunted in response as he successfully carried out a roundhouse kick. However, after he leapt in an undignified way to the side to avoid yet another punch, he held his hands up.

"You are the…only one…who can properly tal…talk in these….circumstances." He panted, then swallowed to regain proper speech.

"Can I skate then?" Eve plaintively said.

"What's the exercise?" L asked, gesturing to the door while Eve quickly changed her shoes. She put on rollerblades and rolled out to follow L into the crisp morning air.

"A man burgled a house. The house in question has armed guards with sniffer dogs and a secretary mans the CCTV footage from the cameras all around the house. How could he have done it?" she began, gliding next to her companion who had settled into a brisk walk – an impressive task with bare feet.

"Blind spot on the CCTV. Or he disconnected them by shooting the fuse box. Or…" he took the vague map from Eve's hands and scrutinised it. He winced from the bruises on his face.

"You didn't mention anything about accomplices." He said slowly.

"…No, I didn't, Wammy said 'a man'…" Eve said with an equal pace.

"One man burgled. That doesn't mean more could have handled the guards while someone else shot the fuse box…and the man mentioned incapacitated the secretary in some way and burgled the house.

Eve stopped gliding abruptly, leading L to look back at her still form.

"That makes sense," she said faintly.

"Your turn with motives." L said, smiling slightly. Eve glided past L, forcing him to run to keep up.

"The common verdict would be to gather wealth from the riches at home, but amongst a television, several vinyl records and £40,000, he also took some framed photographs,"

L raised his eyebrows.

"I think it was mainly a crime of passion. This guy had issues with the owner of the photographs – the other evidence in the rest of the clauses," she leafed through the 20 (or possibly more) pages of small print. L wondered if that was why the bags under her eyes were slightly more pronounced than usual.

"Not a romantic girly mind that led you to that conclusion then?" L jibed.

"Ha ha. You're one to talk as I believe you're a teenager now?" Eve playfully sneered. L sighed.

"Let's go give this to Wammy."

* * *

"Very well done indeed." Wammy said happily, beaming at the pair.

"When are we going to get proper cases?" L got to the point instantly. "We've been receiving a lot of these exercises, I presume you are preparing us for the 'real thing'?" L gestured to the growing pile of paper that was the work of him and Eve.

"No," Wammy said firmly. "The world of crime and even of fighting it is not one of children like you to be included in," he said with a harsh undertone to his voice.

"What?!" L spluttered. Eve glanced next to her and folded her arms contentedly, an _I told you so_ expression on her face.

"I am not willing," Wammy started tidying files off his desk. "To put two of my most prized students in danger…"

"Stop!" Eve blurted out, clutching Wammy's arm. In his hand was a thin yellow file with Eve's photograph printed in black and white in the corner.

"You have a file on me? You…know my name? My real name?" Eve's voice, rather than turning to shouts, became quieter and more incredulous.

"Don't be silly. I have told you time and time again," Wammy smiled while he replied testily. "And I believe you two are missing your first session of the day from being here?" he shooed the pair off, who haltingly left.

Walking in the corridor, L was the first to break the silence. "Does he have my file?"

Eve didn't answer for a few moments before changing the subject partially.

"He said that I wasn't left with anything, not even a birth certificate." Eve said somewhat numbly.

"I'll sound blunt," L began. "But why are you so torn up over a name?" His curious black eyes turned their inquisitive gaze on his companion.

Eve chuckled incredulously while shaking her head slightly. "What do you mean? Don't you want to know what…who you really are? 'Eve' isn't my proper name. I don't even have a surname!" she babbled as she thrust open the door to enter the courtyard.

"It can be a nickname. Or an alias for when you're older." L demurely said. Eve raised an eyebrow.

"Bullshit," Eve coolly replied.

"Eve is a lovely name," he protested. At this Eve stopped, turning on her heels to face L once more, cocking her head, her fringe hanging limply from her forehead.

"I have a plan. It involves those files." She said.

"And a suitable distraction." L finished. The pair shared a conspiratorial look as they crossed the courtyard. L went ahead to his room while Eve lagged behind.

She smiled contentedly before joining L on the stairs, glowing slightly more than usual.

* * *

"We'll need to disconnect the CCTV system, obviously," L muttered. "How many cameras are there?"

"One step ahead of you. There's ten, and the fusebox is directly above the main camera on the next floor." Eve entered the room while L hopped back into the armchair. A reassured smile appeared on his face.

"There is a possibility of me making a suitable distraction, leading Wammy to the other students in the other buildings…" L petered out as he realised just how spread out they were.

"There's a research session in half an hour. They'll all be gathered in the Bell Tower."

"Which?" he began confusedly.

"The only one with the stiff doors and the library? You really are slipping L." Eve teased, looking out of the window while biting voraciously into a pack of chewing gum.

"There isn't a research session scheduled for today…" L authoritatively said, standing up and joining her at the window.

"What _are_ you talking about, Mr. Bond?" Eve said with her mouth full. L glowered at her.

"I don't know if your plan is very wise, Moneypenny."

Eve made a muffled giggle.

* * *

"Why the hell does no one open the doors when its _Summer_?" a boy grumbled.

The other students made voices of assent, all 70 of them being cooped up in the spacious yet stuffy Bell Tower - with windows that didn't open.

"Why did Wammy even schedule a research session today?" another girl moaned.

Robert made his way over to the huge, elaborately carved oak doors leading to the summer fields and turned both handles.

It didn't budge.

"Frederiiiick, help me! The doors are stiff again," The 10-year-old boy bleated.

"You're the one meant to be a genius at machinery," the medical student exasperatedly replied. "It takes a knack for doing this, I've been here for 15 years…"

It still didn't budge, even when the pair of them pulled with all their might.

"…Listen, Bobby, I don't want you telling the others," he slowly muttered.

"People only call me Bobby when it's bad news," Robert stubbornly interrupted.

"It might be so, but Wammy's just made a mistake with the caretakers and the keys, let's wait until the session ends…"

"So we're locked in?!"

A hushed silence emanated from the rest of the students. The shouting started before Frederick had time to swear.

* * *

"I get how you locked the door, but the keyholes are _huge_. How many packs did you have to…" L excitedly asked.

"5." Eve's tongue lolled out of her mouth, whose breath stunk of strawberry-flavoured gum. "I hate these kind of things for a reason." She moaned. "But anyway," she directed her attention to Wammy's office.

With Eve disabling the fuse box, L had come into Wammy's office through the front door and Eve had joined them a short time later. L could see out of the windows at Wammy and 4 other caretakers trying to wedge open the door without any keys.

Those jangled in Eve's jeans pocket as she pulled out her file shakily and opened it. L dived for the relevant drawer and pulled out his file – it was completely censored.

Anger briefly crossed L's face as he threw down the censored pile of papers and searched for something more. He eventually found a bulky letter. He was faintly surprised when his hands started trembling as he read the address.

_To Mr. Lawliet c/o Mr Quilish Wammy  
Where ever the hell you are now_

Return address:  
U. N. OWEN

"Unknown?" Eve muttered with her eyes gleaming with interest.

L slid a finger inside the envelope._  
_

**A/N: Cliffhanger! R&R please, as always.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Find

**A/N: SORRY FOR LATE CHAPTER...!**

"Ahem," Wammy coughed almost politely.

L wheeled around as he dropped his package. Eve turned around more slowly after putting her file backwards inside the drawer.

"So he did come today." Eve concluded.

"Who came today?" L warily interrupted.

"My cousin. His name is Roger – we are often mistaken for each other when looked at from the back," Wammy confirmed, still in his soft-spoken, diplomatic tone.

"You didn't tell me this?" L hissed. Eve ignored him.

"In fact…the only element you could have 'failed' in this situation was being seen by the back-up CCTV. But I see that Eve discovered that as well," L's eyes narrowed once more. "Your examination marks suggest otherwise, but you are, judging from this, a logical and observant young lady." Wammy praised.

Eve had an impassive face to that although she glowed once more from the unexpected praise. "Is that a compliment, sir?" she frostily said.

"You two are ready." Wammy almost radiated with pride as he made for the pair to show them out.

"My letter…" L feebly began.

"You will receive it when I deem you old enough," Wammy replied, a genial smile appearing on his face. "This is the first time in at least 10 years I have actually…" his voice petered out as he ruffled through a pile of papers before handing over a crinkled booklet to each.

"Tomorrow, you will meet your partners, but for now, you may forgo your other sessions for the rest of the day. Your real work will begin tomorrow,"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me that there was an extra CCTV system or that his cousin was coming today?" L began, crouching in his armchair, fingers tapping irritably on the arms, staring sullenly at the carpet.

"I believe that…" began Eve.

"It is a basic fact of knowledge that iffy and unreliable 'possibilities' and 'belief', however strong or likely they may be cannot compare to the solid evidence that knowledge can bring," L almost recited, drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair.

"…I am ridiculously sure that they're irrelevant," Eve said dryly.

"Any factor that could impinge or could have impinged on our plan has to be known by both of us," he continued.

"The back-up CCTV system is only protected by a code, and usually operated with or nearby the original CCTV system. And it's our fault that we didn't realise about Roger."

"But we could have at least known that they were prepared for us!" L hissed. "We didn't find any information on our respective families, as your bright plan detailed…" L regained control of his temper.

"Funny. I thought you weren't bothered by your name. Or your alias, should I say?" Eve levelly said.

L glared at her. "I am not fond of losing."

"So then you're prepared to accept that as your real name?" Eve confronted L, whose fingers and toes gripped the armchair for dear life.

"A name is a means of identification," L was close to growling.

"Nothing more?" Eve pondered aloud. L seethed. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt himself so annoyed, and he wondered whether he had been this furious all of his life. He became angrier at the sight of a taunting smile emerging on Eve's face.

"I've never seen you this unguarded before," Eve quietly replied. "Surely if you want to become a detective…"

"The correct terminology is _private investigator_." L interrupted, glad that he at last had one over Eve.

Eve waved off his correction. "Surely if you want to become a detective, you have to have a mask of emotional impartiality?" L paused.

He hung his head slightly, letting his eyes close for a few moments before looking at Eve's suddenly concerned gaze.

"I'm working on it," L wearily said, making a crooked smile that brought out her customary grin.

* * *

_28__th__ June 1983_

_Dear Messrs Wammy and Ruvie,_

_I hereby represent Her Majesty's and the nation's wishes in approving your proposal that you have sent to me a week ago. As per your wishes, you are hereby relieved of your duties in the Secret Intelligence Service to conduct your experiments, namely in building an orphanage nearby Winchester (named "Wammy's House") for extraordinarily talented yet impoverished children and orphans._

_However, your attentions must be directed to the reasons why we approve your proposal with utmost reluctance – in raising orphans to become the geniuses of their day, you must adhere to international law and also that any who qualify your strict conditions must be aware that they will be serving the United Kingdom, whatever nationality they may be._

_As your superior, I believe your tenacity and attention to detail will bring the best out of this experiment, and have faith in your ability to persevere until the very end._

_I wish you gentlemen good luck._

_Steven I. Scarlett  
Director General of the Secret Intelligence Service (MI6)_

* * *

"Ha. Did you read this?" A boy chuckled, both feet leaned on the car seat in front of him, reading the letter.

"I have read it many hours before you have, in fact when we first received it courtesy of Roger before we set out for England." A girl with a willowy body replied, seated properly next to the boy.

"Shoulda known," the boy muttered darkly, rolling his eyes.

"You really should have, B. Being a private investigator requires intuition of the highest calibre." The girl flawlessly replied, crossing her thin ankles while chancing a glance out of the tinted window.

B frowned, looking at his companion with red eyes. "We're almost there," the chauffeur said quietly, turning onto the drive of Wammy's House.

"Thank you," the girl softly replied. "It looks a very luxurious place, don't you think?"

"Doesn't mean it's nice." B gruffly replied, staring at the chauffeur.

"_Quel est ton date?" _She abruptly switched to French as the chauffeur exited the car to open the doors for them.

"_A demain." _B solemnly replied. The girl nodded. B smiled wryly.

"Let's go, A."


	5. Chapter 5: Type AB

**A/N: I'm so so so sorry that this chapter is so late. Haven't had access to computer lately, and was not on my side when I was.**

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," A said primly as she held out her hand for the other pair to shake.

"What she said," B said gruffly, not bothering.

"Good to meet you. I'm Y," Eve said with a polite smile, shaking A's hand while acknowledging B at the same time. L blinked.

_Y? _

"A and B have only just completed an assignment in France – but I have heard from Roger that they were very eager to meet you two." Wammy said genially.

"As are we," L cordially muttered.

"Don't you need a rest? If you've only just arrived…" Eve interjected. A paused before replying.

"A real private investigator will have to be prepared to take multiple cases at any one time, most likely suffering sleepless nights. Are you suggesting, Y, that I am not apt for this line of work?"

B sighed while L and Eve exchanged bemused and slightly annoyed looks.

"Or perhaps you are taking an aggressive approach to our personal relationship, in hope that I will give up at this early stage… I am impressed by your chain of thought, but this will not work on me," A smiled thinly at Eve who frowned inwardly. A carried on twirling her very long and messy plait that draped over her shoulder.

B smiled apologetically, perhaps awkwardly. Eve had noticed a red tinge in his eyes, and was extremely curious at the way the redness glinted as he gazed upon anything. As his gaze fell on her, Eve (for possibly the first time) took a step back, clutched her arms as if she was cold, and looked towards the ground. L and B looked mildly worried, but her new position did nothing to better her in A's image.

"I apologise, Y. My companion often has a habit of unnerving the average bystander," her wan smile came back as Eve frowned openly.

Wammy coughed again.

"Your assignment will take place in 3 years from now, and will take you to Queens, New York,"

"Why 3 years?"

Wammy replied, "The field agents need a sufficient space of time to live in the area, gather reliable data, to get used to the locals, and… to have the locals get used to them,"

B nodded slowly while Eve folded her arms.

"There is a situation of 'gang activity' or even 'gang rivalry' that has been active for the last year, and has been causing disruption in Queens, Manhattan and even in New Jersey. As all of the participating gangs' whereabouts, members, and frankly most other things are unknown, it is up to you to solve what the NYPD cannot."

"Altogether?" Eve started. A raised her eyebrows in a rare feat of expression.

"In a way. The NYPD will be monitoring your progress, and will be providing references for all of you to relevant departments around the world..."

The ringing of Wammy's desk phone broke the conversation, and remained trilling stubbornly until Wammy reached the desk and picked it up.

"Hello?" Wammy abruptly wrenched the phone from his ear as the four children heard static instead of a dial tone and he slammed it down in frustration.

"Of all the…" The television in the corner of the room winked itself on with obscure loopy handwriting fading into view.

"Good afternoon, all. You are speaking to Eraldo Coil,"

The four children gasped as one at the scrambled voice pattern while Wammy frowned.

Coil smirked at Wammy's expression, and let out a smug chuckle that he reserved for his superiors.

"I'm surprised, _Mister_ Wammy, that you haven't noticed the surveillance I have been keeping on your telephone conversations since…a year ago?"

He crossed his legs and leaned into his desk while looking at the computer screen and keeping the telephone close to his ear.

"And now I have visual! God rewards the worthy, don't you think?" he squinted at the four children in view, who were now staring at the CCTV camera – staring at him. "Hello kiddies. I regret to inform you that your temporary employment will not in fact be necessary; the NYPD have asked for my help already and as far as they're concerned, I can do a much better job than 4 preteens. Any questions?"

Wammy spluttered in anger.

"I didn't think so." The screen went blank as a stunned silence swept the room.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" B broke the silence, facing Wammy.

"It…was not unforeseen." Wammy admitted. "Eraldo Coil was an alumni of this orphanage. Or should I say…a drop-out."

"He didn't seem to like you very much," Eve said amusedly. Wammy frowned.

"Your comment is a good reason why all of you are here." B bore an incredulous look on his face.

"There is one other reason why I am sending you on this assignment. Eraldo Coil as a detective (who is meant to have an impartial view on most if not all topics) has shown that even a world-renowned detective such as he makes mistakes."

A spoke for the first time since Coil had finished his braodcast. "Are you referring to the incident in Naples a few years ago?"

"Amongst others. You four are more than capable enough to outperform him. B and Y, be prepared to leave on the 24th." Wammy abruptly concluded.

"In 2 days time?" B gaped in dismay.

"I cannot ignore Eve's insight that you two are in dire need of relaxation after your trying time in Nice." The man departed with a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

L woke up.

This was an uncomfortable sensation in him, as sleep had an irritating trait of leaving the mind completely blank for a few moments before everything that he had been dwelling upon the night before crashed into him. Even when he had inquired Eve about it, she had unhelpfully said that if he was not satisfied by normality, he had to be calm when about to fall asleep, which of course was completely out of the question.

L grunted as he stood up, holding his head as the ache pulsed a few times before fading away. He habitually widened his eyes and blinked forcibly to get all the jumbled data into its proper place.

_Eve is leaving today._

He was perplexed. That couldn't have been what he had been thinking about the previous night. And then he remembered.

_Y._

* * *

He almost politely knocked the door of Eve's room, but he noticed that the door was open already. He peeked in.

A large bulging satchel sat on Eve's made-up bed. With this sight came the quick realisation that L hadn't actually been inside Eve's room for the 2 years that he had known her. Since she had shown him his room when they had first met, it was an unspoken agreement that they always met at his bare room.

L winced at the creaking the door made when opened fully. He stepped in, drawn to the lack of any visible worldly possessions surrounding him. He then spotted a picture frame on top of the dresser – one was provided in every room in Wammy's House.

_A parent? Friend? Loved one?_

L greedily snatched up the frame, eager for some information about his mysterious acquaintance. However an empty picture frame was all he got.

After staring at it for a few moments, he walked out of the bare room, slightly dejected. Shame was the accurate feeling to experience after being near rifling his friend's room for personal information, but the only shame he experienced was one that he had not actually found anything of importance.

He unconsciously followed a distant hum of music until he found himself in front of the 'Room of Artists'. It was hearsay that a famous musician's room was inside, but the identity of this particular musician, Wammy smirked, was a well-kept secret. L pursed his lips, fairly sure he knew who it was.

He opened the door to find Eve playing the beginning to a classical piece.

"Hi, L." she said, perhaps with a hint of praise.

"That's by Debussy."

"I know," she deadpanned. L moved so he could see her, dragging an armchair along with ease, finally hopping into it and resuming his usual sitting position.

"Adaptable, aren't you?" Eve began dryly. "How do you know this piece?" she continued playing.

"My old roommate had a large collection of classical CDs. We listened to them a lot before he got adopted," he replied without emotion. "Why is your alias Y?"

"Eve isn't my real name," she flawlessly replied, expecting this question ever since she revealed her alias. She distantly heard L's exasperated sigh. "Think of it as a puzzle."

L's eyes unintentionally flickered with interest, an irritating question becoming an engaging puzzle. "How so?"

"My … nickname before you came was 'Evey'. But considering my real name, it should be 'Eva'." L frowned, the cogs whirling in his brain.

"Genevieve."

"No." She abruptly stopped playing the Debussy and haltingly started a melody of her own.

"Why did you stop?"

"I don't know the rest."

"And you're making that up?" Eve didn't reply until she got the gist of what she was playing.

"I'm surprised you didn't react as strongly to me knowing my name, and you not." She hesitantly said. L rested his head on his shoulders.

"It's okay." He dismissed. "Everyone knows me as L." Eve made a half-smile.

"You'll always know me as Eve." L made his usual crooked smile and looked at her properly.

"Not as Evey?" Eve's smile widened rather than fading.

"Shut up. That was the nickname for when I was a child." She said reproachfully.

"I hope you have a fulfilling time in New York, Evey."

"Um." Eve stuttered at L's obstinate use of her hated nickname. "Thanks. Work well with A."

L sighed at the mention of her, making Eve giggle. The two were interrupted by a well-timed knock on the door.

"Evey, it's time." B said, opening the door.

L raised an eyebrow.

"I will have a good time, L. B and I spent a lot of time talking yesterday. We'll work well together." Eve smiled and stepped forward, smile fading. Her hands twitched forward until she gave a stiff hug to L, who unintentionally did a sharp intake of breath.

B raised an eyebrow.

"See you." She hurriedly said before briskly walking out of the room, B following. L didn't move from where he was, playing Eve's improvisation over and over in his head.

While his eyes remained unblinking, his half-smile remained hidden behind his folded arms.


	6. Chapter 6: A While Later

**3 years later**

"_This is Carole Heston reporting for XYZ News. There has been yet another disturbance in the New Jersey area in what is believed to be a revenge attack from rival factions of a youth gang. The NYPD have commented on the increasingly dangerous situation by saying they're making progress in apprehending those responsible and have employed select international help to tackle the situation. However, the Chief Inspector had nothing to comment when asked whether 'international help' meant employing the elusive and often controversial detective, identified only as 'Eraldo Coil'."_

"_What an intriguing story, Carole. From the many cases that Eraldo Coil has tackled, we could safely say that the situation is under control, but can we though? After all, Coil's track record has been something of a concern lately, hasn't it?"_

"_Definitely, Nick. There have been a few of what we could call 'slip-ups', most notably in the Montefiori drug dealing chain in Naples a few years ago. No one needs reminding of this, and as we all know, a notable lack of contact with the regional and international authorities forced the Naples Polizia to cut off contact with him. Many have questioned whether somehow Coil's pride led him to being related to the sudden disappearance of all the Montefiori clan and the subsequent tragedy in the surrounding area that happened afterward------"_

L turned the television off.

The rest of the occupants in the baggage reclaim area looked around them irritated. A few made the connection between the sleeping airport guard's desk and the remote control in the scrawny young man's hand. L shrugged in response.

"I make that the 1,123rd disturbance that has occurred this year alone," A commented, kneeling and swirling imaginary patterns on the tiled floor.

Her counterpart threw the remote control back as he tucked his legs in further while his feet squirmed in his shoes. He looked at his distant reflection in the television as Wammy and Roger hurriedly entered the baggage reclaim area.

"I'm sorry, you two, we had a problem with security. Now…we'll have to go to our destination separately, to avoid arousing suspicion. Here's the address…" Roger started, giving them a slip of paper.

"I'm sure B and Y will find some way of meeting you two tonight," Wammy interrupted with a twinkle in his eye.

L remembered his semi-stern instruction by Wammy on the flight that Eve's new 'name' was Y, and she would not be called otherwise.

He bit his thumbnail in anticipation.

* * *

"30 dollars." The taxi driver drawled. A calmly handed out the money to him.

Meanwhile almost all of the lampposts were flickering out into the pitch black sky. The various blocks of flats looked dilapidated and dirty – but one of these was where they were going to be staying for the duration of the assignment.

A and L walked instinctively walked towards the only lamppost that worked properly, where L suddenly stopped and slowly pulled his hands out of his jean pockets.

"We're being watched." He almost whispered.

"Aren't you smart," An American drawl emerged out of the urban undergrowth, where a man in a hoodie shortly followed in the light.

"B?" A's gaze brightened slightly.

"Who?" the same voice came out incredulously before the body that emitted it came out – a young man who looked like he had too much to drink. Or smoke. "This girl seems smart too, ya know. Smart enough to know when she's beaten and she needs to come with me."

Out of nowhere, an arm hooked around A's neck fiercely. A's arm snapped up to try and free herself. L looked around to see that there were in fact 5 other people surrounding them.

Drunk-Boy seemed to be holding a knife in front of him, although he was swaying while holding it.

"Ixey, she looks rich. We should let her go before protective daddy starts calling people." The person holding A suddenly said.

Drunk-Boy squinted at his captive. Although drab, A's cardigan and long-ish skirt were not even remotely in fashion with any circle except perhaps the upper.

"Does she have money on her?" she slowly shook her head.

"Just take her," Another teenager said. "We can use her for ransom money,"

A cleared her throat. "Ransoming me isn't going to work very well if you don't know who I am,"

"Ooh," the men put on a falsetto tone. "She's got spunk…"

L's foot slammed Drunk-Boy into a defunct lamppost. Although slightly perturbed about the noise the impact made, he quickly turned on the young man holding A. However, he was now brandishing a knife.

The teenager stepped out into the light. "Back away, if you know what's good for you," he warningly said.

A reddish tinge to his eyes revealed his identity.

B roughly jerked A's neck towards an alleyway. "Hey! We're going to take her anyway for Ixey!" he shouted. Roars of assent accompanied the exclamation. He gestured with his knife for L to follow. "You don't want your girlfriend to get hurt, right?"

Once all the teenagers present gathered in the alleyway (a particularly loyal member had carried Drunk-Boy) they huddled around their newest prey.

"So, whadda we do with her?" one leered. L tensed. A rustle emanated from the rooftops.

"Did you hear something, guys?" another said warily.

The others slowly quieted down and B took the knife off of A's throat. He put a finger on his lips when A turned round and recognised him.

"Is it Jacks..?" the youngest member mumbled. The man with the biggest muscles, dubbed 'Macho-Boy' by L turned to shush him when he suddenly noticed another rustle.

"QUEENS!" a male voice roared. The rest either gasped or screamed in unison.

"Shit, with Ixey like this, we can't do nothing!" the one carrying Drunk-Boy said with difficulty.

"Scram, scram, scram!" Macho-Boy hurriedly said with accompanying arm motions while the rest of the Queens escaped – smoke bombs were hailing down from the sky.

L huddled next to a couple of dustbins and quietly thought how much of a bad day it had been so far. B and A were sheltering near him by some dilapidated cardboard boxes. As the smoke cleared and no one apart from the three remained to be seen, B suddenly put his fingers to his mouth and whistled as loud as he could.

And Eve jumped down from the window.

"You have _no_ idea how much I hate you!" B reproachfully said. "It could have just as easily been you on 'night duty' than me!" A still was too visibly shaken to respond.

"I love you too, B." Eve calmly said, reaching for the speaker that projected B's pre-recorded voice. She gestured for A and B to come out. L hesitantly followed.

Eve's eyes lit up as a wide smile slowly formed on her face.

* * *

"You ran into a gang already?" Roger said, aghast.

"It can't have been out of your calculations that we would run into one eventually," A quietly sipped her hot tea, back to her normal state of being knelt on the floor.

"No, definitely not, but even so…"

"I'm quite alright, Roger, but I don't appreciate the unneeded concern," A snapped.

"I think you touched a nerve there." Eve said with a slightly smug smile as she messily tied her hair in a ponytail.

"Guys…" B started, slightly scared.

"Now…" Wammy started to interrupt. "Now, you four, before we all turn in for the night, there is something that I have to tell all of you." The four gradually turned towards him.

"There is a condition with the NYPD about this assignment," Wammy said.

"First one I've heard about," B began, folding his arms. "We work together, they assess our progress and give us references for the future,"

"B…That's not necessarily the facts." He slowly replied.

The only thing that anyone heard through the deafening silence was L's back clicking as he sat up straight.

"A and B, along with L and Y. You had worked together before, and you are going to work together now. Of course, this means that A and B will take one room (across the road) and L and Y the other…"

"Wammy? We're competing?" Eve said in an appalled whisper.

"It depends on which way you look at it. Eraldo Coil is also working on the same assignment, and it is up to you to see if you can outmatch him. Whoever wins will gain the eponymous title of the greatest detective in the world. However, the people who lose will have to look to different horizons. B and Y, perhaps this will not be hard for you, but L. And A. You might have to rethink your standing."

A's face grew even paler. "But you said…" L began.

"L, my dear boy. Surely you remember that everybody lies?" Wammy said with a sly smile. "Get some sleep. You'll need the rest."

He almost mockingly doffed his hat to everyone present before exiting majestically with Roger tailing after him. Eve tugged L's arm to follow them to the other room.

* * *

"I don't want to compete," Eve said with finality. L cocked his head.

"I'll relish the competition," he said lightly while biting his thumbnail, already thoroughly chewed.

"Of course. You still don't like to lose, right?" Eve's loose smile twitched onto her face.

"Not at all." L smiled slightly as he settled into the sofa. "Do you have anything for me to look at tonight?" he asked.

"You don't plan to sleep at all, do you." Eve said it more as a statement than a question, walking towards her bedroom. After rummaging through her drawers, she found a thick file. "Here," she lobbed it towards her companion who caught it effortlessly. "That's the result of my tireless note-taking throughout the 3 years."

L leafed through the file, raising his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. I'll look at this tonight, you go to sleep."

Eve rolled her eyes. She paused before going to the bedroom and after a moment, sidled over to the fridge and peeked in.

There were only two things left, one of which was rotten. Eve crinkled her nose and took out a plate.

L came back to reality as a small plate with a modest slice of strawberry shortcake was placed beside him with a loud _clink_.

"Goodnight, L." She made a dramatic gesture with her hands before L heard the door close.

L turned the page over as he reached for the cake.

**A/N: Dead laptop combined with lack of sleep and GCSE revision makes an unhappy orange ;_;**


	7. Chapter 7: The Queen and her Fool

**A/N: Due to inactive author-beta contact, chapters will hopefully be coming quicker now...?**

A was pondering.

This would be perfectly normal, were it not for the fact that the sun had not even risen yet. A liked to sleep lightly and get up at what B would call 'inhumane' hours, so she could have the silence to herself. After all, proper silence was a rare commodity in an orphanage.

"It has to be at least 5 in the morning," B forced out of his drooping mouth, rubbing his eyes as he shuffled into the living room.

"Oh, quite late then." A mused. "I read your notes based on the last three years. They're very well kept – you're not normally so diligent." She frankly said. B rolled his eyes while smiling.

"First real case, ya know." He grinned slightly, scratching the back of his head bashfully.

"You got help from Y," A said immediately, with a sour tone. B flinched.

"Only a bit," he whined. "Structure and stuff." A suddenly smiled contentedly.

"Very good work, B. Now – here's what I want you to do," He leaned in to hear what she had to say.

* * *

"You want me to find out who mans the Kings' Gang?" Eve said incredulously. L nodded.

"There's a pattern, here, on page 10 and…" he leafed through a few pages. "Here. There's a pattern in the times that the incidents take place – and there's a good chance that Kings' is organising when the groups stage their incidents."

"Just because Jacks' leader probably gets his orders from somewhere else doesn't mean Drunk Boy – or Ixey – does," Eve retorted.

"But did he look like the kind of person to be giving advanced tactical measures to his group?" L countered.

"People act differently when they're drunk," Eve testily said, putting on her jacket.

L raised his eyebrows and his mouth twitched into a smirk. "The fact that you're getting ready to leave signifies that you're going to carry through with our plan?" Eve sighed.

"At least give me a percentage before I go." L paused to think.

"I would say…8%. An extremely good chance nonetheless." She rolled her eyes.

"And I obviously ignore the other 92%. See you later…"

L reached out a hand in alarm. "You dyed your hair?" he said dumbfounded.

Eve did indeed, comparing to her almost mousy-brown colour before, had new, deeper auburn hair. L bit his thumbnail again, wondering how he hadn't seen that the night before.

She ruffled it slightly, smiling, before tying it up. "I reckoned it would help me with the change of identity," she said. "After all, I'm Y now, right?"

Eve strode out of the door and closed it with a degree of finality.

"Lock it!" L shouted after her a few moments after.

The lock clicked after a momentary pause.

* * *

B's eyes were still bleary.

It was barely 7 in the morning and under A's orders, he was at the main hideout of Queens', before anybody had turned up. Unfortunately, there wasn't any proper place to place a camera or recorder covertly enough so that it wouldn't be seen by any of the other gang members. So into B's jacket pocket it went.

"Jeez, Billy, why d'ya bother getting up so…damn…" the boy yawned. "early?"

"Lookout. Someone's gotta look after this place." He replied flawlessly.

"Yeah. And it's usually me." Macho Boy emerged from the mist. He looked vaguely threatening, and was arguably the only one out of the four there that actually looked like they belonged to a gang.

"I…was afraid we might get found out." B feigned fear. "Someone has to leave the signal in the mailbox!"

"Hey, yeah…" one of the boys started to say.

"Ay! No use blabbing about things that the police," he finished in a derisive tone. "Could listen to."

B shifted his weight. _No, none at all._

As the members started to come in and filter into the disused house, B followed from behind, picking up his voice recorder and whispering into it.

"Jose Honduras…David Lechowski…Clarkson Woods…Lee Tanaka…Sofia Cumming---'

"Hurry up!"

"Yeah, I said I was coming!" B reached his hand to turn up the voice recorder, now safely in his pocket.

* * *

Eve sighed. The 'leader' of Jacks' even looked more stringent than Ixey of Queens'.

"Guys. We need to appoint a rat," the man said. As the group descended into confused mutterings, the girl entwined around his arm asked,

"What do you mean, Mike?" she giggled.

"I mean, Susie…that we need someone here, preferably new, to infiltrate the Queens'."

"What, like, spying?" Eve asked, careful enough to use her American accent.

"Sorta. Now Jacko here is the newest – and Evey the second," Both mentioned rolled their eyes at their unwanted nicknames. "All sorted?" the leader demanded, waving his hand in a vague motion.

"What the hell?! How the hell do we do that?" Jack shouted.

"You're saying that if we get caught, we know the least about you guys, so we're more expendable," Eve said with an irritated look.

"See – you're smart, you'll do it well." He said mock-reassuringly.

"And what if we don't want to? If I don't want to?" Jack seethed.

The congregation turned to him slowly, one by one. Each face bore a look of mild surprise, but the glares they gave were so piercing, accusing and just angry that Jack visibly recoiled.

"Fine, fine, whatever. No big deal." He muttered angrily.

The leader smirked, leaning his head on his girlfriends'.

* * *

"What am I meant to do? I don't know how to do this, heck, I don't even want to do this! But he'll kill me if I don't, and…" Jack babbled despairingly.

Eve shrugged. "You only joined 6 months ago. It's understandable that you don't feel comfortable yet."

"Do you?" Jack asked, as they reached the disused house with the dilapidated roof.

Eve paused as she jumped on a dustbin.

"Never." She hauled herself up.

* * *

"Ixey's not coming?! He can't have been that high on---"

"He OD'ed." The scared boy who had carried him revealed. "He's in hospital. We can't risk going in when the police are almost certainly watching him."

"Guys," Macho Boy stated as everyone immediately shut up. "We need to get our own on Jacks', right?" He stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air," he walked out of the house and headed off.

B rolled his eyes. _He can't be that intimidating for anyone to notice and comment on the massive hole in the roof. _

He kept an eye on Macho Boy through the window and deftly stepped out.

"Where're _you_ going?" one of the young men asked.

"Loo." He blurted out the English word. _Shit._

"Right, weirdo." He replied, turning his back. B raised his eyebrows. _Well._

He swiftly followed Macho Boy to confirm A's suspicions.

* * *

"Shit, their leader's in hospital?" Jack whispered in awe.

"Seems so. Serves him right for being so hi----" she petered out as her eyes widened.

"_Morning, L. Has A and B gone yet?"_

"_Yes, B departed his premises at somewhere between 5.00 to 5.30 in the morning. I believe A left sometime afterwards._

"_I swear that's really early."_

"_You can't deprive someone of early morning walks, Eve."_

Eve thought furiously.

_He was drunk, but not high. But he's in hospital._

"Eve, what's the matter."

"The…" Eve sputtered. _Think out of the box._

_It's not impossible that B could have put something in his drink to look like an OD. And…_

"Oh, my…Shit." Eve bolted off, Jack struggling to follow.

"Your what?!" he bleated.

_And A's gone to the hospital to interrogate him._

* * *

Ixey's eyes slowly opened.

The lights that scorched his eyeballs were glaring and unforgiving – and his head was completely numb. Nonetheless, he raised it slowly from the stiff walls of the hospital storeroom.

There was a girl kneeling opposite him, twirling her plait and swirling patterns on the floor. Ixey squinted as the presence cleared her throat quietly.

"Contrary to what you may believe, Mr. Micheal Larsson, you have not overdosed on any kind of drug. My associate delivered a harmless substance in your drink, and…"

"I blacked out, and my mouth…" he muttered.

"The substance has some side effects, including numbness and often extreme nausea." A continued, tapping her pen on the floor between the mops. "Now, what can you tell me about how Queens' attacks are organised?" Ixey struggled to bring his mind back to reality.

_Avoid the question._

"So the bad guys really do speak about all their plans in front of their victims, huh?" he struggled to smirk.

A cocked her head delicately. "I find your question hard to understand, Mr. Larsson. If you're assuming me to be the villain in this scenario, then I would answer that I haven't told you more than what you are entitled to know. Does that really make me the villain?"

"You're from the cops!" Ixey frowned.

"No I'm not," A calmly replied. Ixey exhaled, confused. He then steeled himself as he couldn't think of anything to reply with.

"We only react to what Jacks' does. We're not doing anything wrong – go ask them if you want knowledge!"

A stared him down, unblinking. As she thought, the fingers winding her plait sped up until some hair started to stick out.

"You've prepared your answers well, Mr. Larsson. Now…I have one last question before a hospital employee discovers us in approximately 2 minutes. Do you know of the chemical sodium…pentothal?"

"No," Ixey groaned immediately, his head still painfully numb.

"…also known as 'truth serum' in some circles?" A deliberately sounded out each syllable coldly as Ixey's eyes widened with each word.

"You're going to give me…"

"I _have _given you. Mr. Larsson, you've already given away some things in your sleep. You were very helpful," she held up a notepad page filled with writing.

"Omigod." Ixey breathed. "Even about Renaldo, and the warehouse…Houlden…and…" he gulped as A nodded.

"I must confess, though, Mickey, or should I say…Ixey," as A spoke Ixey with difficulty opened his eyes. "Truth serum is very hard to find, make and determine. Often, it is used in fictitious circumstances."

"Whaddya mean?" he said.

A knelt forward and softly passed the notepad which Ixey squinted at to read.

'Use  
"Truth  
Serum"  
To Draw Out  
His Lengthy  
Confessions  
Of  
Past  
Sins'

"From a certain angle, it does look like a legitimate list, does it not, Mr. Larsson?" A smiled for the first time. "As our 2 minutes…" the door slammed open, forcing Ixey to cross his arms over his head to protect himself. "Or less…"

"What the _hell_ is going on here – is he a patient?!" the doctor examined incredulously at the bleary-eyed man.

"The standard of American healthcare results in, as I'm sure you know, pathetically long queues," A sniffed. "It would frankly be much easier obtaining cough medicine from the store room directly." She coughed lightly to prove her point as the bewildered doctor led Ixey away.

As A watched them go, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Eve and a young man running behind her.

"1-nil, I think you'll find, Y." Eve glared at her rival and led a confused Jack out of the hospital.


	8. Chapter 8: Apprentices

**A/N: I'M BACK FROM HOLIDAY. Now the fruits of my hard work are for all to see...**

"A interrogated Drunk Boy already?" L said with a stung tone to his voice.

"Not that drunk, actually. B made him take this stuff to black out," Eve said, leaning in a public phone box as Jack waited outside.

"This sets us back considerably, assuming that A got what she wanted," L sighed.

"Let me get lunch and I'll come back there. Do you want anything?" L paused.

"If you happen to pass by a cake shop…"

Eve sighed dryly as she hung up.

* * *

"Why the hell are you getting 4 burgers? I've got one already, and…" Eve started.

Jack turned around as if caught, with a doomed glint in his eye. However, soon after, he relaxed considerably.

"Okay, but you can't tell _anyone_…" he hissed.

"What, that you eat way more than you should?" Eve replied, bemused. Jack smirked at the retort.

"I suppose I can trust you then." He grasped Eve's arm and pulled her out of the deli, briskly walking down a few alleyways.

"Jack, what're you…" he finally stopped in front of a disused garage.

"Jack...?" a voice muttered.

"He's not meant to be back yet, ask for the password," another, more nervous voice piped up.

A figure ran up to the pair and stuck his left arm out, scowling at the pair.

"HALT!" The figure turned out to be a scrawny blond boy. "Passwort!" His voice was thick with a heavy German accent.

"Guys, I have burgers, come on, let me in!" Jack plaintively said, almost intimidated by the child.

"That's as good a password as any!" a redheaded boy shouted, leaping out of the low window as another albino boy peeked out – the only one who hadn't spoken.

* * *

"Why is this such a secret?" Eve said, staring back at the wordless boy.

"Vey nut nurmul!" Jack said with difficulty, eating. Eve raised an eyebrow, and then commenced introductions.

"Hey guys. I'm Eve, who are all of you?" she said genially.

The blond frowned. "I am Mihael."

"And I'm Matt." The redhead replied cordially.

The albino was mute.

"Oh, he's Nate – he doesn't talk." Jack managed.

"What, is he mute?" Eve said, slightly awed. Jack shrugged uncomfortably.

"We don't really know…" Mihael proceeded to argue with Matt over whether Nate was mute or not. Eve sighed.

"They're on the run, see," Jack began. Eve looked at them slightly more disparagingly than before. Nate faintly waved a hand at Jack, before pointing at himself and shaking his head. "Oh yeah, Nate's not technically, but he could be arrested for being an accomplice in the theft."

Eve looked slightly weak. "What did you do?"

"Steal Machine." Mihael curtly said.

She blinked. "What…?" Matt proudly held up a battered, old GameBoy. Eve sighed once more. Those things. "Is there a toilet anywhere?"

Mihael shot up and slouched off down a corridor. Eve hesitantly followed.

After they had reached a certain point, the boy abruptly stopped. "You English, you not American."

"Und ich spreche Deutsch also." Eve retorted, leaning down and ruffling his hair. He in response jumped visibly, knocking over a beer can.

"…Warum?!" he quavered, suddenly in his mother tongue. Eve shrugged in response, heading for the toilet.

"I learnt it at school." She switched back to English. Mihael ran back as if stung as she sighed.

Some time later, after a few awkward silences and a general unwillingness to clear up the burger remains, Eve decided to take action.

"I have to go now," she said. "I'll come to your den again some other time, huh?" she was careful to use her American tones once more. Eve hoisted her satchel on her shoulder.

"Can I maybe…walk you there?" Jack proposed innocently. Matt and Mihael sniggered.

"Uh, well…" Eve floundered for a plausible reason why on _no account_ she could be seen with another Jacks' member. "My dad wants to meet me at his house, and it's all the way over in Brooklyn. Maybe…some other time?" Eve tried to sound approving.

"Oh, well, I'll just walk you until a few blocks back then." Jack smiled slightly goofily as he reassured her, clenching her hand and almost dragging her out of the garage. Eve scowled openly as a smile flickered on Nate's face.

* * *

"And you're late because a boy from your gang took you round to his place?" L struggled to contain his amusement, and laughed lightly all the while. He stared almost joyfully at Eve's irritated expression as she cunningly replied,

"Shut up," she folded her arms. "More to the point – the good thing that I didn't mention on the phone is that I've been told _along_ with Jack to spy on Queens', so I've been kinda given time to find out more about Kings'," she concluded.

"You don't need to be shy, Evey. Although that is a very good cover story. Did you kiss?" L said playfully, stirring sugar cubes in his coffee.

"I'm not shy, it's true, and _no._" Eve's eyes darkened.

"Oh, alright. Well, it's probable that there was another motive for sending Drunk Boy to hospital."

Eve frowned. "What do you mean?"

"A is a sneaky and a very sly person, but she doesn't act on her instincts, let alone at all. She's the kind of person who although their speculations may be right, will only wait until the optimum situation to present itself. This kind of plan is out of character for her and therefore is most likely the work of B." L sipped it, satisfied with his drinks' sweetness.

Eve thought it over. "B is quite spontaneous, that's for sure; and he's also quite impatient. Maybe he needed the leader of the gang out of the way to carry out something else," she pondered.

L nodded, encouraging her on. Eve sighed, realising that this was the case. "I suppose I'm on the right lines, then. But he couldn't have taken advantage of any chaos caused by the lack of authority – Macho Boy took his place almost immediately. …And B followed Macho Boy out?" Eve suddenly said, remembering something. L's eyes widened.

"You didn't tell me that," he said, annoyed.

"Apologies. I forgot." Eve said sarcastically.

"We need everything we can in this investigation to bring down the whole gang chain. Remember we're working for the NYPD?" L stated. Eve rolled her eyes.

"Of course…" she turned around after her reply at a sudden buzzing sound in her bag. L looked over nonchalantly as Eve investigated.

She then paled, finding a tape recorder. L suddenly shot up from the couch and examined it carefully, precariously holding it from the tips of his fingers. "Who's listening to us…?" Eve turned it upside down to check whether they could determine the origin of the tape recorder – however, there was nothing that could indicate this.

"Could anyone have slipped that in at Jacks'? Or maybe when you visited Queens', or maybe even A?" L asked worriedly, while Eve shook her head slowly.

After a 'huh' noise came from L, he let out a sudden laugh, and Eve was surprised to discover that even his eyes were glinting with glee. His eyes bulged before Eve could ask, and his finger pointed towards the small fingerprints that decorated the recorder.

"Invite Jack and his strays here, asap."

* * *

"We are really, really sorry for listening into your conversations," Jack and Matt forced out while Mihael stared angrily at the ground.

"Where's Nate?" Eve muttered out of the side of her mouth.

"Watchout duty." Jack replied.

"Whose idea was this?" L promptly asked.

"Mihael and Nate's. Mihael seemed to think that an English person who could speak in an American accent and talk German was… out of place around here," Jack said accusingly towards Eve. She shrugged in response. "Nate agreed, and Matt set that thing up to record two hours and slipped it in her bag. I had nothing to do with it…"

"Except the whole walking her home to avoid suspicion on us…?" Matt inquired. Jack sighed.

"How old are you?" L directed this question at Matt.

"I'm 7. Mihael's 8, and Nate's 6."

"And how well do you know New York?"

"Well enough." L thought for a moment or two.

"That's all I have to ask, really," L slotted his hands back into his pocket. "You can go back to your homes if you wish. But..." Mihael finally looked up.

L stared at them, looking for any sign of a reaction. "If Matt, Nate and Mihael are willing to work for me, accommodation, food and learning will be provided." Mihael still stared, now confused.

And L translated everything he had said into German. Eve widened her eyes and let out an inaudible gasp that the previously monolingual boy had suddenly learnt a language. Mihael, understanding, nodded curtly. Matt frowned.

"Why should we help you – why do you need us?"

L sucked his thumb, cocking his head. "Well, we're understaffed, and do you really have anything better to do?"

Mihael jerked Matt's ear to whisper in before he sighed, and resignedly nodded.

"What about me?" Jack said worriedly.

"You are still an operative member of Jacks', am I right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Then you pose a potential threat to the security of this investigation and I cannot employ you in the same league as these three." L concluded. Jack bristled.

"I think I can help. Before my father died, he was a police officer, and he taught me a few things that have helped me out. But.." he glared at the back of L. "If you still don't trust me, then I guess..."

"You have no relatives?" L interjected, staring out the window.

Jack shrugged uncomfortably. "Kinda. But if I help you, I am _not_ the kinda guy who's gonna do everything you say." He stressed.

L smiled, but only with his back to Jack so he couldn't see. "I'll let you know through Eve."

Matt smiled, reassured for the first time since leaving the garage.


	9. Chapter 9: A Week

**A/N: I won't put these in front anymore...but since these are all miscellaneous events that happen in one week, each bit is quite short...**

"I did hear a Renaldo being mentioned," B said excitedly.

"So there is a very great chance that he went to the warehouse…!" A said smiling. "Alright, B, let's wait it out until the next attack, when we can confirm our findings." B's smile froze in place.

"What do you mean, wait? Confirm our findings? I've confirmed them! The next attack's in a few days, by that time, even L and Eve will have figured out…"

"Y," A said firmly. "Your worries are unfounded. I have seen how L likes certain confectionaries – I'll see if I can get something in return."

* * *

"We're going quite well," L said with a muffled voice, as he guzzled a piece of strawberry shortcake that A had brought out. She left her slice untouched on the coffee table.

"So are we – we might have discovered how Queens' attacks are organised."

"Have you? We've found out about Jacks', how they do it and all. We've reported our findings to Wammy…it's really just a matter of acting now," L said unfazed, licking his fingers.

A pursed her lips.

"More importantly – are you having that last slice?"

* * *

"You have to leave the garage, Nate! Don't you want to work with the other guys?" Jack said exasperated.

Nate moodily stared at Optimus Prime punch the wall with its metal fists.

"Mihael won't be back. Matt might, but it's not likely…come _on,_ Nate!"

Its head snapped.

* * *

"That's Queens' there," Eve pointed out a house as Matt and Mihael nodded. Eve had given him a crash-course in comprehensible English, including some slang.

"Yeah!" Mihael said, buzzing with confidence.

"Mihael?" Matt said, sighing.

"Yeah?" Matt shoved a piece of chocolate in his open mouth.

"Shut up." Eve looked warily at the now guzzling boy. He didn't even look human, his eyes glazing over at the taste. "It's his fuel," Matt explained.

"…Right," she said. "Now, remember. You can't be seen, on any account. And take shifts – one records what they're saying, the other searches the immediate surroundings for any evidence, like drugs, arms and so on."

Both boys nodded as their previous mentor behind them smiled in pride.

* * *

"How can we get their names?" L mused. Eve winced. "We can't take photographs of them, as the developer might recognise their faces on 'wanted' posters, and therefore will get suspicious…" L frowned.

"Yeah...ah," Eve reluctantly forced out.

"Ah?" L irritatedly said. He had learnt through time that whenever Eve said anything resembling 'ah' or 'oh' it meant that something had happened.

It was entertaining that it was one of her traits that she could never seem to get rid of.

"I just thought…" Eve delayed for time. How could she explain B's eyes? "B has a photographic memory. When we first got here, he went through all of New York's Wanted lists, and now, whenever he sees someone, he just _knows_ their name,"

L made a disbelieving snort.

"Right. Well, anyway, I guess we'll have to transport one of the little ones to A and B,"

* * *

After a hurried exit aided by Jack, Nate had found himself quivering in front of the door of the building across the road from Matts'.

He came armed with a bulky notepad and pen, and a baseball cap to divert curious glances to his white hair on the way.

He hesitantly tapped on the door and jerked his baseball cap further down – if anything, he just didn't feel like saying anything about his hair – not that he could.

Nate counted the many milliseconds it took for a shuffling noise to stop in front of the door and open it.

A, hunched and slightly tired, looked at Nate with some curiosity, and locked eyes with him, as he, slightly more confident now that she was his height, held up the sign, trembling.

* * *

"There's something I ought to tell all of you," L announced to Eve, Mihael and Matt.

"A came to visit me the other day. I believe she was seeking information on our progress." He gave a dismissive flick of his head to across the road.

"She is under the impression that we are much further in our investigation than we actually are," Eve groaned while L continued. "But this will hopefully push them to act faster than they normally would. I'm relying on all of you to give the signs that we are at a false point…Mihael, are you alright?" L confusedly turned his head to Mihael, who purposefully turned his head away when addressed so.

"I'm Mello." He said defiantly.

"He wants an alias too," Matt sighed, whacking him playfully on the head.

"…Why 'mellow'?" Eve said sceptically.

"Mehl-Oh. Not Melloveh." His face pinched at the odd sound.

"Mellow. 'W's don't sound like 'V's in German."

"Mello!"

"It's on that chocolate bar." Matt pointed to the one that L had chucked him a few moments earlier. "Although he's anything but…"

"What?!" Mihael growled, whacking Matt not-so-playfully.

"Are you going to follow the trend, Matt?" L said amusedly. Matt shrugged.

"Don't need to, really…"

L smiled in respect. Matt's face remained expressionless.

He'd never smile to someone like L.

* * *

"What the hell is a kid doing here anyway?" B threw his arms up as Nate twirled a lock of hair almost in time with A.

"Near here has come with valuable information on L and Y, and in turn, Jacks'. He has left his former friends to help a better cause…"

Nate made a little half-shrug. _Not really friends. Housemates._

B reacted. "He shrugged! The little brat shrugged at 'a better cause' – can't you see that that thing's spying for L?"

A's eyes flickered with anger. "Why are you so highly strung this evening?"

A humoured chuckle which turned more crazed gradually escaped out of B's lips.

"Highly strung…highly strung. Hm. I don't have anything to do," he licked his lips. "Nothing. It makes me…highly…well. Maybe…highly strung. No. High----no. Nothing," He heard a rustle of paper as he struggled to finish.

He looked at Nate's notepad which now read 'disagreeable?'

B frowned as he gripped the couch ferociously. "I don't like you,"

Nate shrugged properly.

* * *

Mihael and Matt turned out to be a very welcome, and much needed addition to L's party. Within a week they had more data than Eve could feasibly achieve on Jacks' – partly because Jack knew more hiding places around the main hideout.

Purportedly Matt and Mihael had once been caught, but by Matt picking up a lit cigarette and smoking it briefly, they had escaped suspicion as Mihael sat on the recording equipment. But Eve didn't believe them.

They had slightly less data on Queens', but that was understandable. Jack was extremely proud, until a slip of familiar-looking paper was slid under their door. Mihael growled as he saw it.

"_I will work permanently with A from now on. She seems to have a more effective way of working – in not leaving everything to chance. I will not spy for you again. Thank you, Jack, for housing me and Matt for generally helping. None for Mihael._

_-Near"_

"Why doesn't he thank me?" Mihael said for the fifth time as L's smile twitched once more.

"You didn't really do anything…" Jack said weakly, still reeling that Nate was capable of deceit.

Mihael reached for a piece of cake before his hand got slapped by L.

* * *

Eve cursed.

She had to be the one to break into the shed (although easy) at one in the morning. She peered through the grimy window and teased it to open. She sighed happily as it opened sufficiently without making any kind of sound. She slipped in and closed it, before crouching and hearing a heavily Americanised voice speak.

"Jose? Is that you?" _He's talking about Macho Boy. _"Who the hell are you?" The same voice said, quietly this time.

"Jo…Jose couldn't come. I'm Sofia," Eve said. The lean man peered at the girl before concluding, "No,"

Eve gulped. "Are you Renaldo?" she forced out. He stopped before his smile slithered across his face.

"They send a _girl_ to spy on me. How typical, just…"

"Renaldo?" Macho Boy's voice shot up to the next floor. Renaldo slammed a hand over Eve's mouth.

"Clear out. There's a fire escape – a much more convenient escape than that window. It slips. If you aren't away from the grounds in 15 seconds time, I'm gonna tell him about an _intruder._ He doesn't take lightly to _intruders_,"

Eve had never ran so fast in her life.

* * *

Two weeks after Mihael, Nate and Matt were introduced, Quilish Wammy made his entrance.

"You're adopting children rather than continuing on with your investigation?" he said part amused, part serious.

"We help," Mihael said, slightly entranced by this man's presence. Matt jerkily pointed at the stacks of cassette tapes.

"Yeah, but Wammy, we got a really big lead today!" Eve held up a torn page from a notepad. It was covered in various letters from various newspapers and magazines and it read:

Please meet the KiNg iN the height of his land, where we will Talk about our prospects and Observe the landscape – Utilise your SituatioN to ENquire about your Not Few queries. I shall defiNitely Remember this appoiNtment aNd Never shall we forget this NiNth day on the NiNth hour lest of EmergeNcy.

Regards,

ReNaldo Loci.

"He's asking us to meet up!" Eve said gleefully as L smiled and nodded.

"Yes…ah." Wammy coughed as L almost rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Ah?" Eve said, deflating.

"A and B received the same note this afternoon," L's eyes remained unblinking.

"B made contact with Renaldo as well," Wammy nodded.

"He's such a coward, negotiating with the authorities so he's get a better sentence," Mihael huffed. Matt shrugged.

"He's smart for doing that though. What would you do in that kind of situation?" Matt replied calmly.

"I wouldn't get catched." Mihael said proudly.

"Caught," Matt corrected.

"Talking about that…" Eve interrupted, suddenly remembering. "L, where'd you learn German?" L looked up, mid-way through one of Mihael's chocolate bars as payback for his cake.

Wammy smiled amusedly. "I believe he knows French, Russian, Spanish and Japanese aside from German now?" L's curt nod confirmed it. He made a shrug, which Eve supposed as a bashful one.

"Why? And in 3 years?" she said, astonished.

"I suppose that he really, really doesn't like losing," Wammy surmised as L scowled.

"Don't you have other things to do?" he said irritably.

Matt chuckled as Wammy rolled his eyes and left gracefully.

* * *

"Prospect Park, at 9am on…" B thought. "next Wednesday!"

A smiled in satisfaction. "Kings' hideout would naturally be in Brooklyn, which is also known as Kings' County,"

Nate quietly made Optimus Prime dive and swoop in circles of triumph.

"We'll have to make sure we come prepared, because he certainly will," A said, feeling the most satisfied in a long while.

"Prepared…" B said numbly. "We can get him when he isn't prepared! He'll expect us to acquiesce to his wishes, but we can send the NYPD to his hideout, arrest him, and then both Queens' and Jacks' attacks will be completely disorganised!"

A pursed her lips once more. "After the meeting," she said steely.

"What?" B's eyes darkened.

"We need all the evidence we can get. Destroying our chances of getting a full-blown confession won't do us any good," she explained, twirling her plait.

"And you're saying that you would risk him maybe hurting you and him being in his element, completely prepared to do anything, maybe even stop us? We'll be playing right into his hands!" B said incredulously and with a little crazed laugh, completely disbelieving of his situation.

A's eyes narrowed. "That laugh of yours makes you extremely conspicuous and plays down how clever and sensible you can be," she snapped as a dangerous look entered B's eyes.

He started to inspect her, sometimes making a sudden movement just so he could see her twitch and inspect the other side.

"What are you doing?" A wearily asked.

"Have you ever let your hair down? In your life?" B asked, tugging at it as A yanked it away and twirled it. "Whenever I see you, it's in that weird, plaity thing," he glowered from behind A's head – she could positively feel the glare.

"Of course I have," she bluffed. "You're unhinged. I strongly advise you to retire now, you must be incredibly tired," she tried to reason with her crazed companion.

"Henh henh… yes, of course, whatever you say," B made a swooping bow. "Miss Adeline Avantes," he enunciated. A stopped and willed herself not to react.

"You can't really deny my request if we're going to see each other for all of this week. I can just tug that little ribbon out of your hair, if I want, you see…"

A whirled around in a sudden frenzy of anger, eyes swirling. "Over my _dead body_! Get out! Come back tomorrow – maybe you'll have less drugs in your system by then!" she flung her hand towards the door.

"And where will I sleep?" he said sarcastically.

"In the gutter, where you belong," A hissed with so much venom that B instinctively took a step back. He took a few more and soon reached the door, and as the fierce silence was broken by the creak, he turned back, with much more sadness in his eyes than was previously present.

"You think I'm on something…?" Although his face remained forlorn, a lopsided grin that seemed ironic appeared on his face before he left.

Nate stopped covering the robot's 'ears' as his memories of angry, sad Mom and sick, mad, sad, drunk Dad were forcibly repressed.


	10. Chapter 10: Downturn

"Can you speak?" A one day asked as Nate played. He reached for his notepad, which A abruptly pushed away. After a curious look, A asked again, "I didn't ask if you could talk. I asked if you could speak,"

Nate looked at her, slightly bemused, his wide, unblinking eyes withdrawing slightly to ponder the question. He then, twitching his mouth slightly, shrugged somewhat belligerently. A sighed.

She crawled-shuffled towards the coffee table and reached for a small bag, which she tossed over to Nate. "My present to you, Near. Maybe to celebrate your new name," she handed a small paper bag over to the child. "B and a few others have often told me that I should be more human, and therefore need to act more so. At an educated guess, I presume that you have been told the same. After all, the gift came to mind when I saw you playing with that robot there," she said as gently as she could muster, and wondered briefly when the last time had been that she had used this particular tone when speaking to someone.

_Ma soeur._ She dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come, and watched Nate slowly pull out Superman from within his confinements. A joyful spark burned in his eyes for a moment, before he carried out his usual examinations on the toy and the eyes became dull once more. Could the arms move? How much? Could the various body parts come off? He fingered it gently.

"Can I leave you here while I join L and Y?" Nate looked on with curiosity. "Mr Wammy has got the Chief Inspector of the NYPD on the phone, and I must join them in the negotiation process." Nate nodded and an almost inaudible burble of sound escaped his lips. He clapped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

"Tha…Thank you, A," he managed. A was intrigued by the soft, American tones that Nate's voice contained.

She grinned, an action so out of custom for her that her muscles hurt, and answered, "You're welcome,"

She left. Nate cuddled Optimus Prime, now with Superman, and buried his face in them, providing dubious comfort.

He had seen how her eyes glinted with something that wasn't quite contentment, and anything completely unfamiliar made him uneasy.

He was scared.

* * *

"You have both gathered substantial information regarding both Queens' and Jacks', and of a possible new identity, Kings'," Wammy began, photos of various gang members and both of their respective hideouts stood spread out on the table. "Now we have to give the NYPD this data and after 8 days have passed and the meeting at Prospect Park has taken place, we can consider our work here done and I will review your work. Mr Mahoney, can you hear me?" Wammy abruptly switched to the phone.

"Loud and clear,"

"To the best of my and my associates' knowledge, the Queens' hideout lies on the dilapidated mansion "Greenwalds" on 61st Street, Queens and Jacks' as being in the basement and garden apartment of 246 54th Street, Princeton-Plainsboro, New Jersey. Are there any further questions you would like to ask me?" Wammy said, as if he had been doing this all his life.

"No, that's completely fine – although, we'd like your authorisation on this, W, I have my men ready to raid those two residences, and that of the house you mentioned earlier, in Brooklyn?"

L's alarmed eyes stared at Wammy. _What house?_

"I followed them – I didn't feel like I was doing enough," Matt quietly confessed, coughing slightly. Mihael nodded approvingly.

"Our SWAT teams are ready and waiting," continued Mahoney, "and could start in a couple of hours,"

"That is most impressive, Mr Mahoney, I'm sure that my colleagues are also very happy to give our authorisation on this. Thank you very much, Chief Inspector."

"And thank you." the phone hung up. Eve butted in immediately.

"He asked us to meet on the 9th, it's just courtesy to acquiesce to his wishes," she said.

"Y, there is no courtesy performed by the wise in some situations, particularly those relating to crime. If you curtsy to each criminal you meet, chances are they'll not return the same 'honour' to you," he replied harshly. "We'll apprehend all of them when they're unprepared,"

L stepped in. "He might not be willing to impart certain information when he's in prison and it's not under his conditions," he said.

"L, there are some ways of getting that information," he said, distractedly, replacing the phone.

"I will not be party to torture," A said grimly, eyes wide with shock.

"It's not your decision to make," Wammy snapped.

* * *

"Shit…!" B swore again, kicking the wall. He had somehow managed to sleep outside after his more sensible side took over – and now, he was fairly concerned as to his current mental state and situation.

_I need to do something to please A._

Normally, if he had asked an average guy from Queens' or someplace else, he would get 'flowers' or 'jewellery' or even one time 'declarations of love' (although this was from Drunk Boy). But with A, it was different. A was special. Somehow.

It wasn't his fault. God knew it wasn't A's fault. So it was that little brat's. _But who sent him…?_

Correction: It was L's fault. He was really behind everything. A's stress. His own stress. Sending that brat to stay, when he was actually spying for them. At least he confessed.

B scowled, almost collapsing on a bench rigidly.

_L_ never saw how pale A got at the mention of the investigation. _L_ never knew how much A worried when _he_ found something new. _L_ didn't have the emotions, that robotic…

B rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His dull red eyes were becoming even blearier than they were usually accustomed to. This feeling was even more unpleasant as his eyes, his 'special' eyes, which portrayed everything in startling clarity and detail, did not seem to be reflecting this pain. He hesitantly opened them, and focussed on the woman sitting on the bench, testing it out.

Janet Stuart. 27/9/34.

He blinked.

Quarter Queen. 2/6/67.

Again. He looked back at the young girl running down the dingy road. 7? 8? Same age as when he got taken into Wammy's House. Poor thing, to be cursed with such a name.

_Or blessed. What an interesting identity._ He chuckled. _A nice name. _He fleetingly wondered why he couldn't see birthdays as well. Just deathdays.

_You're beyond that._ B chuckled manically once more. _I'm Beyond Birthdays. Birthday. Beyond Birthday. Henh henh. An interesting identity._

He shuffled along in the direction of Renaldo Loci's house. He would get him. Bring him to A. Question him. Beat him up. No, not that. He needs to be alive.

_Too bad._

Quarter Queen. QQ. qq. He remembered the faces on the pack of cards, the profile of a girl with very long hair. Head at the top, feet at the bottom.

B cocked his head, ignoring a car almost running over him.

Conversely, a 'dd' would be the opposite. Feet at the top, head at the bottom. Or a 'bb'. Or a 'Beyond Birthday'. _Clever. Cunning connotations. Interesting identity._

"Henh henh…" he suddenly bolted, startling the passers-by.

_Nice name._

* * *

L sipped his Earl Grey as Eve looked on.

"Why do you hold stuff so weirdly?" Matt asked, bluntly. Mihael wheeled around, mortified by his friend's audacity. "What, I'm just asking. It can't be anything big,"

L thought for a moment as he, getting bored of dropping the sugar cubes one by one into the teacup, dumped the whole tin inside. Eve groaned audibly, imagining the taste.

"It's a habit of mine," he finally started. "I've had it for as long as I can remember," he said dully. Mihael was still slightly infuriated that Matt had invaded L's veneer of calmness and 'in-control-ness' and _questioned_ him. In irritation, he glared at Renaldo's letter.

"Why are some letters in capitals and some not?"

"It's a thing with newspaper print. You just try and find any letter that works, whether it be capitals or not." Eve said as L's eyebrows shot up and grabbed the letter. He stuck a hand out impatiently.

"Pen. Pen!" Mihael chucked a ballpoint from the other end of the room, which L caught with ease. Matt leaned over at the capitals he was circling.

"PNNT…TOUS…NENNF…NRNNN…NNNNNNNEN."

"That helps," Eve deadpanned.

"There's way too many 'N's," Matt observed. A silence followed.

"The common element," Eve breathed, running over to L's side. He omitted all the 'N's.

"PTOU…SEF…IRE…" L muttered.

"PTO, USE FIRE!" Eve triumphantly said.

"Was?" Mihael weakly asked.

"Invisible ink. But…fire…" Eve looked helplessly around. Matt wordlessly gave her a lighter and made a slightly apologetic face. She lit it and held it close to the other side of Renaldo's letter, where his true message started to flicker outwards.

_I knew I was being followed._

_I suppose it makes sense that the dirtier the work, the younger the kid. I'll have moved out by the time any sort of raids could be commenced by the time you get this letter._

_I have measures for break-ins. If anyone tries to come in the vicinity of my house, I cannot guarantee their safety._

_Yours truly._

A burst into the room, startling everyone. L wheeled around, still gingerly holding the letter.

"B's gone! I think he might have gone to… ah." L closed his eyes as A read the real message.. "The common element. His name. N!"

Eve lethargically crossed out the 'N' in 'Renaldo'. And saw through a simple anagram a very familiar name come across. She swore.

* * *

"You're coming with us, Mr Loci,"

"I'm turning 16 in November, how can I be a gang…" B struggled. "A gang boss?!" The police officer didn't sympathise.

"Yeah, we'll see once you get to the station." He drawled, looking absently at his comrades.

B reddened. "You wouldn't have such a lazy, lethargic voice, a 'can't-be-_assed_' face and tone if I was the one trying to pull your arm off," he said venomously.

"Hey!" said the police officer, still lazily. "What did you---oh my god, are your eyes…" The unfortunate man got shoved into a wall and as B got pulled off by two other officers, he turned around, with a clearer look in his eyes, blood dripping from his nose.

A lone, lean man stood at the corner, watching the commotion.

He chuckled.

"God does reward the worthy – especially to Eraldo Coil!" he said satisfied.

**A/N: The B scene was so fun to write... **


	11. Chapter 11: Plan B

"Hello?" L answered the phone.

"It's the police!" Eve mouthed while pointing at the number.

"Hello, am I speaking to a…" Rustle rustle pause. "A Mr Elliot Byrd?" L paused, silently chuckling at the irony.

"Speaking," he attempted to pass off a Brooklyn accent. He observed that Eve's pleasantly surprised face was popping up a lot recently.

"I'm sorry to be the one to impart such bad news, sir, but your younger brother Byron was arrested for loitering in a police-protected area and for afterward assaulting a police officer. We'd like if possible to ask you a few questions, after which you can see him, so would it be possible for you to come down to the station as soon as you can?"

L paused as Eve motioned A, staring curiously at the phone and the apparent charades game going on.

"I'm, ah, very sorry to hear that Officer," Something with this guy's voice was odd. "May I ask how badly you were hurt?" he feigned concern, stalling for time as Eve wrote '7 O'CLOCK' on Nate's old notice.

"I have a broken dose," the officer deflated.

"My brother is such a nuisance, I'm so sorry," L said waspishly, becoming more and more sure that social niceties were a waste of time. "Is it alright if I come this evening, at … 7 o'clock, and that a few other people come with me as well?"

"Well, strictly speaking, only relatives are…"

"I have a very bereaved girlfriend and cousin over here. I trust that will be okay? Officer?" A's face flicked up, with a comically disturbed expression on her face. Eve stifled a giggle.

"Well, yeah, yes, of course…Thank you, sir,"

"And thank you," L hurriedly hung the phone up.

"I never knew you had a hidden charisma there, L," Eve playfully remarked.

"I'm his brother…?" L weakly asked to himself.

"I'm his girlfriend?" A said, aghast.

* * *

B was annoyed. Very annoyed.

He really didn't want to think about the shitty situation he had probably just brought the whole team to, and instead concentrated on how hard the tiled wall was, and inventing different scenarios that explained the yellow-green gunge that gathered near the door.

As he imagined, the door suddenly shot open, and he jerked involuntarily.

"Visitor, Byrd." The guard dragged him up as B slapped the arm away and walked on his own, following him.

_Evey? L? …A?_

A tall man waited behind the visitor screen, casually leaning into the telephone.

_Neither._ He fumed.

B nonchalantly reached for the phone to the other side of the glass screen. The other guy started to inspect him.

"Before I introduce myself, I must apologise," B's breath caught in his throat as he read the name displayed above the man's head. "You were apprehended in my place. Although if you had received my note, then you wouldn't have come," he said, not without a hint of accusation.

"I haven't been back since yesterday evening." He sullenly said.

"That explains quite a few things. My name is Eraldo Coil. What's yours?" B gulped.

"I'm B," Coil smiled belligerently at him.

"That's not a name," B still looked hesitant. "Don't be that worried. I had a name like that too. I had an alias - L,"

B's heart skipped a beat.

"No one really called me that though. Some smartass surmised that if you put my initials together, you got 'EC'. And if you reverse them, and put them together with the last one, you get 'ecce', Latin for 'look'," he shrugged. "He wasn't very bright," he concluded as B let out an involuntary smirk.

"Why are you visiting me?" B asked warily, eyes still fixed on the name teetering above his head.

"I wanted to contact someone within your group. Not Wammy, though." He flippantly waved a hand.

"See, I've always wanted to ask you something, since you hacked into Wammy's system." Coil curiously looked on. "What the hell was up with the Montefiori case?"

Coil stiffened.

"If you really wanted to soften me up to get information, that's not the best place to start, you know," he said, shaking his head. "My turn," he tapped a finger on the glass, pointing at B. "Do you know what on earth you're doing?"

B was taken aback. "What?"

"I had a working partner just like you. Much more intelligent. She would have never gotten caught, and in her time she was the best detective in the world. Briefly. Her name was Nadia. Nadia Deneuve," he said wistfully.

"What happened to her?" Coil gave a little half-shrug.

"She didn't take to the 'let's-cultivate-detectives-for-fun' environment. That a certain geezer set up. There is a reason why I left, you know," B noticed a slightly gaunt side to his face that he hadn't noticed before.

"Think about it – tell me, B," he said reluctantly. "Do you believe in God?" a hopeful gleam entered his eyes.

"What? No," B bluntly said. A sad smile met him.

"You miss out on the joys of the world," Coil nodded curtly and left the station.

* * *

"Take a shower," Eve commanded.

"Why?" L reproachfully said.

"A – you stink and B – if you're gonna seem anything like B, or his older brother, you're gonna have to change what you wear," she authoritatively concluded as L slinked off to the bathroom.

"Is this going to work?" A sceptically questioned.

"Best chance we have," Eve rummaged through a bag. "A, do you have any scissors? Or is that a silly question?"

A blinked. "Why would you need scissors...unless..." she looked slightly incredulous, gesturing to the bathroom.

Eve gave a weary smile. "Please don't tell him yet," A folded her arms. "Basically...when we get there, I knock the supervising officer out or distract him. L and B switch, and L's taller, so he'll put this marker in the prison window. And I'll bust him out," she concluded, holding up a piece of orange paper. "L can also fight if he needs to, whereas B improvises,"

"You seem to be leaving a lot of this to chance," A said nervously, fiddling with her plait.

"Chance? Of course not," Eve said innocently, discovering at last a pair of scissors. "Oh, by the way, where did Nate go?"

"Near. I believe one of yours' is visiting him," she answered, "Shall I return at 6?"

Eve stared at her faintly, with a sympathetic side to it. "The police station's 4 blocks away. Make it 6.30,"

"I..." A faltered. "I might have underestimated you," Eve cocked her head, thereby irritating A more in the process. Her messy bun was in danger of falling apart.

"Whatever. Nate's waiting for you,"

A smiled thinly as she left.

* * *

"These are B's bigger hoodies, and some tops," Eve shouted from in front of the closed bathroom door. "Your jeans should be fine – but wear some sneakers or something,"

"I don't have any," L wheedled.

Eve sighed. "Just wear your tennis shoes then. Typical of you to get good at something the moment I leave. Passing hoodies through," she did as she said, throwing them through the narrow space.

While L chose a hoodie, he made conversation. "You know your leader had a companion?"

"You mean of Jacks'? Of course, they stuck together all the time," she replied dryly. "Why do you ask?"

"Apparently the girl tried to get a gun off the police, but she didn't in the end, and they were about to shoot her when the leader got in the way and died. The girl ran out in front of a car in her grief," L related, almost clinically.

"Stupidly typical," Eve concluded, folding her arms.

"How so?" More rustling from the bathroom.

"Well, people usually become stupid when they get a love life. They do things that normally they wouldn't do. Even when you could live a much more fulfilling life without it,"

She heard a slight chuckle, but it could have been her imagination. "Go on,"

"Well..." she mentally floundered. "It's useless, impairs your thinking and is extremely irritating? Do you want more adjectives, or can I come in to cut your hair?" She this time heard a shocked stumble which was definitely not her imagination. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," he said, with a more forlorn tone to his voice. Eve, when she had entered, laughed gleefully at L's droopy hair that went down all the way to his nose. She was reminded of a disgruntled, wet, cat.

"Now, I'm sorry, but you have to look like B, because you two are going to switch, right? Get a few towels or something around your neck so my attempts don't go everywhere,"

He did as she asked, more slowly than before. "Are you okay?"

"I'm...tired," L confessed, rubbing his eyes. "And I've been thinking as well," Eve began cutting, starting from the fringe, and became more and more interested when his fringe receded to reveal two very tired, half-lidded grey eyes.

"Is that the reason why you're staring at me?" Eve hesitantly inquired.

"Yes. You wouldn't say that love was such an irritating thing unless you had experienced it beforehand," Eve faltered slightly, but it was enough for L to notice.

"Right, and...?"

"Have you?" she stopped at that, and sat back down on her stool to stare at L completely – a relatively new experience as she now had to stare at his eyes rather than stare at a mop of hair.

"You think that I'm that innocent and fresh-faced?"

"No – but it's the right time for certain hormones to make you have a perfectly normal experience," L replied, slightly more harshly than he had meant to.

"You seem to be more worried _and_ defensive about this than I am – now stay still," Eve coldly wrenched his head downward to cut the hair at the back of his head, provoking a sharp stab of pain. L growled inwardly.

"Are you contemplating revenge yet?" she tauntingly said.

He sighed – after all, he was. And he was arguing inside his head as to whether his revenge was harsh enough or not. A worrying sign of mental instability. L scowled.

"Not quite. I'm thinking again,"

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not,"

"Wrong answer," Eve leaned her head closer to L's as she reached for the right side.

"I'm wondering about certain acts that people carry out when they're in love. And how discomforting they must be when they're not."

"Right,"

"Including kissing,"

"With you so far," a slightly suspicious tone crept into her voice.

"I really must have revenge, even if at the cost of my physical pleasure," L concluded before reaching out.

"L, what..." she dropped her scissors as she felt a fumbling pair of hands on her face.


	12. Chapter 12: The Not So Great Escape

L was shocked. This was due to many things.

The main thing that had caused his sheer shock was that his thoughts were, for the first time, utterly _incoherent._ Making his actions also utterly _incoherent._ The second most shocking thing was that he had kissed Eve for precisely 40 seconds, apparently for his revenge, but increasingly a worried L began to question his motives. After all, it had completely backfired.

And he was even more worried that he had only noticed the sheer _incoherency_ of his actions when he found his fingers wound inside Eve's hair – which only proved that his logic for carrying out his actions had to be wrong. He looked down.

He didn't like losing, especially after a vain attempt to regain your pride.

Meanwhile, Eve stood stock-still, staring at a flushed L, all the more flushed now that his hair was out of the way of his features. "You kissed me," she said flatly, not making any move to retrieve the scissors on the floor. "Properly," she continued in the same slightly stunned, bemused and even irritated tone.

"It was meant to be revenge," L struggled to explain. "Or at least…well…um…" he mentally kicked himself. It was one of his long-term morals that he could not on any account stumble over his words.

Eve's smile threatened to break. "That…was…payback? For me jerking your neck?"

"I thought it was going to cause physical displeasure." He explained, trying to run a hand through his hair, but now finding some difficulty in doing so. Eve's smile faded.

"I see. Shall we say it didn't happen, then – after all, if this action defied your almighty logic, then I'm sure you're embarrassed and won't want it to happen again," she folded her arms. She wasn't really sure why she was so irritated.

"Eve, don't…" A knocked on the door and the occupants of the bathroom quickly looked up at the clock.

It was 6:30.

* * *

So far, so good.

The guard was knocked out, and having swiped the keys from his pocket and shoving him in a storeroom, she had made L and B successfully switch. As L was led away by an unassuming guard, B ducked down both of A and Y's heads and whispered fearfully.

"I saw Eraldo Coil…!"

* * *

_To be fair_, L thought. _This isn't really my fault._

He chose not to eat the food that they delegated to him – he suspected that sugar was a delicacy in these places – and set to work. A minor drawback that had happened to the plan was that his bright slip of paper had been discovered at the latest inspection, and now he had to make this quickly-thought-out plan work by other means.

He carefully slotted the plate of food (or something) by the cell window. It was generally agreed that Eve would think of something else if she thought that she couldn't see the signal. L sighed. _But I can't quite gamble on that._

_Other great minds have failed spectacularly today._

* * *

"I can't see anything…" A weakly observed. "Maybe, just like I told you, L got that bit of paper confiscated. I _knew_ this would happen," she let out a despairing laugh.

"A, calm down," Eve said warily, B coldly staring at her. "I can think of something else. And stop making all that noise, we don't want to get heard inside the prison grounds,"

"Oh? Really? What else could go wrong now?" A asked incredulously.

"Look, look…I have a plan," A waited expectantly. "But you have to trust me completely," Eve said, inwardly wincing, anticipating A's reaction.

"I don't know whether it's difficult to comprehend, but I'm finding it rather difficult to trust you on any of your plans," A shook her head.

"A," Eve started.

"Moreover, I don't expect one of your plans will work, especially since this one has failed!"

"A," Eve said again, gesturing to the harsh torch light illuminating her back.

* * *

It was past 8 o'clock.

L fumed at his 'companions' who were really taking too much time. He folded his arms and sighed. The guy with a tattoo on his arm across from his cell leered.

"What the hell are you looking at? Huh?" he growled. His eyes were bloodshot, and L calmly wondered how long he had been in this particular police station.

"Your enormous nose," L replied.

"You messed up fuc…"

"SHUT UP! Rats!" The prison guard authoritatively shouted. He strode up to L's cell and eyed him up – agonisingly slowly.

"Get out," he finally said. L inwardly gulped. "You're the one that stole from the office," the guard spat as he held up an empty wallet.

L was confused for the second time that day. "What…"

He stopped to read the letters scrawled on the paper stuck to the inside of the guard's wallet. SAFE HANDS – HONESTLY.

L glared at the guard convincingly, while curtly nodding his head to indicate that he had read the message. "Why the hell would I steal something from here? I'm pretty screwed here now, right?" He hurriedly tried to pull out as many of B's possible expletive-filled phrases out of his memories for immediate usage.

"You tell me," the guard drawled.

"Like I'll go," L without warning had his shoulders gripped and shoved against the wall. His back clicked from the pain and he swore under his breath, hopefully, he thought, in a convincing manner.

Jack snarled. "Some people back there…you know very well who they are…are wondering what the hell happened with their money. Do you think you owe them an explanation, or do you think you'll go without breakfast tomorrow?"

L smirked, casually throwing off Jack's hands off his shoulders, nonchalantly walking down the corridor. Jack hurried after.

"Rats?" L whispered out of the side of his mouth. "And you really need to think of a more convincing message. An average prisoner would not have understood the underlying meaning cunningly hidden,"

"Oh, shut up," Jack hotly replied. "My wallet and I acted with all our hearts," L chuckled.

* * *

"Where's B then?" Jack asked.

"Right here," B sullenly replied, A nervously inclining her head as she heard his voice.

"So how did the heist go?" Eve asked jokingly, leading the party back down the corridor towards the entrance.

"Got a lot of glares. But that might be common, I dunno," Jack replied. When Eve laughed appreciatively, he smiled and put his hands in his pockets. L frowned and folded his arms in response.

"How did you get here anyway?" L asked loftily.

"Matt told me," he grinned. "And I decided to take part, and discovered A and Evey in the grounds. I stole a uniform from the locker room," he pinched his uniform for added effect.

"Surely you mean 'Eve'?" L said frostily.

"Surely both of you mean _Y_," A said, cooling the atmosphere to an unbearable temperature. Eve squirmed.

A creaking sound interrupted the group. "What was that?" Eve asked warily, looking around.

"The storeroom…" A warily asked. "Did we lock it?" Eve's face fell.

"I'm not sure…" she said this just as the door shot open and the police officer, anger flaring in his eyes reached for his gun. Jack leapt forward.

And tackled the officer, who gasped raggedly. L backed away and Eve followed. A quietly walked up to the officer and crouched down, intending a negotiation process.

"A, what the hell, go, GET DOWN!" B hurriedly managed as he slammed into A's side, rolling her over as a bullet nicked his shoulder. Jack slammed the police officer on his front, snatching away his gun with difficulty as B let out his breath in a hiss, controlling the shoots of pain with difficulty.

A was aghast. "B, are you...what happened...was that _me.._." she whispered. After motioning from Eve, a trembling Jack held the gun up to the police officer's head.

"Stand up," he commanded, letting no trace of his fear show in his voice. "Put your hands behind your head. Walk back into the storeroom from before, and stay there. If you make any kind of movement in the next five minutes," he gulped involuntarily. "You will be shot. Understand?"

L raised an eyebrow. Jack was smarter than he looked.

The police officer nodded resignedly and did as he was told. B let out a harsh gasp of pain as Jack backed away, and Eve hurriedly shoved B and A out of the police station, to the dubious safety of their temporary home.

* * *

"How old are you, Mr Dawes?" Wammy asked diplomatically.

"I'm 19 next month," he replied.

"So you're as yet not available to be the guardian of these three children?"

Jack's face twisted as the truth suddenly appeared before him. "...No, sir, but I am more than capable..."

"And apart from you, they have no surviving relatives?"

"Not that I know of." Jack said bitterly. Matt nervously bit his nails. "But..."

"I'm an orphan. Sir." Matt cut in. "As is Mello and Near," Wammy incredulously stared Matt down. "That is...as well as Mihael and Nate,"

Wammy's smile was as courteous as it was blindingly fake, and he said, clearly enunciating each syllable, "L will need others to succeed him,"

Eve and L widened their eyes behind the door that separated them from the rest of the group. A quietly, weakly, abandoned her attempt to come to their apartment to eavesdrop.

She had heard enough.

Wammy swooped upon Mihael, who flinched at the sudden, yet quiet invasion of his personal space. "Your name? Full name?"

"M..Mihael Keehl," he stammered. "But I'm Mello."

"Age?"

"8?"

"How did you come to be in Jack's care?" he suddenly asked. Jack raised his voice to protest, but quietened at the raising of the old man's hand.

"I...I go in boat..." he cleared his throat, and rearranged his jumbled German thoughts. "I came in a boat to America. And I saw Jack at harbour," he stopped awkwardly, while Wammy patted his back appreciatively.

"I understand. Now, Nate."

Nate calmly, coldly looked up at the eyes of the man in charge.

"My name is Nate River, but I'm Near. I'm 7, and I come from Boston. Are you taking us to your orphanage?" he curtly asked as Matt stared at his assertive voice in wonder.

"It is increasingly likely that I will be doing so," Wammy replied courteously. "How did you come to meet Jack?"

"I ran away with Matt," he answered. Wammy pondered at this.

"So you're not an orphan…?" An awkward silence followed this as Matt looked up from his GameBoy.

"We're all orphans," he asserted.

"But Nate here didn't say whether his relatives were deceased or not?" Wammy retorted as Nate curled up further on the floor. He sighed. "No matter. Matt, what's your name?"

"You already know it,"

"Your real name,"

"You already know it," Matt repeated, staring solidly at the game.

"I will need your full name to destroy your birth certificate," Wammy said calmly as he smirked inwardly at the sight of Matt wrenching himself off the tiny screen. Eve looked more and more appalled as she and L listened by the door.

"Well, you're not getting it," Matt answered with finality. "I'm 8, and I ran away from Boston with Nate. We got the train to New York, and we found Jack," he shrugged, while his eyes glared fiercely at Wammy. He met this with a cold stare.

"Alright. I'll be taking Mello and Near with me to Winchester in 2 days time, be ready by then?" he said casually as Matt held his breath. Mihael wheeled around and Nate flicked his head upwards from his foetal position.

"Why's Matt not coming?" Nate warily asked as a stunned Matt fell back on the sofa.

"To attend my orphanage, you only have to conform to two criteria. That of being very talented – and impoverished, as orphans. To me, you aren't really conforming to either,"

Matt screwed up his face in a rare feat of pure anger.

"Even the dimmest person will know that your opportunities are brighter if you are given a decent home and optimum conditions to work in. Do you really think that living on the streets with a homeless teenager who can barely provide for himself is the best thing you could choose?" he asked.

"At this rate, it is the most sensible choice for me," Matt managed, gritting his teeth. Jack quietly protested but quickly stopped when the atmosphere cooled further.

"I'm not going without Matt," Mihael said forcefully.

"I don't abide liars, and the worst kinds are those that lie to themselves, don't you think, Matt?" Wammy replied coldly.

"Then I suppose that we wouldn't go, then, Mr Wammy?" Nate quietly interrupted. Wammy turned around.

"What…?"

"I have a mother and father in Boston. Fearing for my wellbeing, I ran away, and Matt helped me to do that," Wammy noticed that although this seemed to be a very childish thing to do, Nate's eyes were anything but, and had a thin veneer of anger, and fear in them.

Mihael curtly nodded. "My mother was sick, and my father smuggled me onto a boat. There is a possibility that they're still alive," he contributed.

"So…none of you are orphans. As such," Wammy deduced. "So, Matt, what's your story?" On cue, Matt's eyes glazed over.

After a horrible, appalling silence of a few moments, Matt's face visibly crumpled and he strode out of the room, hands gripping his face almost savagely.

Nate looked back with sympathy. "Mello, if you would…" Mihael obligingly stood up and followed Matt out the door, politely ignoring Eve and L's bewildered faces.

"You see, Mr Wammy," he said as Wammy looked confusedly back at him. "Some of us are actually orphans."


	13. Chapter 13: Failure

"L's won," A numbly said.

"What?" B said impatiently, putting a plaster on his shoulder.

"We've lost," she said again, slumping on the floor.

B stared at her slumped form for a while before letting out a long, deep sigh. A secretly relieved sigh.

* * *

"They haven't reacted very well," Eve said awkwardly towards L, curled up in a familiar fashion, staring out of the window.

"That is as expected of them, I suppose losing isn't such a familiar feeling for A, although I'm not sure about B," he almost casually polished off yet another slice of cake.

Eve winced. "You hypocrite. Losing is never familiar territory for you. Losing is out of your comfort zone," she said, blocking his view and facing him directly.

L closed his eyes briefly, startling Eve. "Are we still planning to meet Coil?" he finally asked.

"I'm not sure. Is there any point, if that message was a decoy anyway?" Eve questioned.

"I want to see that it is a decoy for myself," L said, licking his fingers. Eve shrugged.

"Your loss. I'm just going to go across the road. Entertain the kiddies while I'm there, okay?" she said.

L suddenly whipped around. "Why? A wants you?"

"No – but she didn't look well when we overhead Wammy talking. He could have said it in a gentler way…" L looked sceptical.

"No," he said simply. Eve glared at him. "She might not appreciate your comfort in the way you hope,"

"Well aware," she dryly said as she left. "Won't be long,"

"Lock it!" L said wearily as Eve closed the door. It locked after a moment – it had almost become a routine.

* * *

"Will you be alright with that, sir?!" the shop assistant said worriedly.

"Yes, perfectly fine, thank you," said L's muffled voice behind 4 piled cake boxes. He tottered out of the cake shop and started to make for the apartment.

His thoughts started to wander, and typically started wandering towards the major event of incoherency in his life.

He really needed to control his hormonal impulses. It couldn't be that hard.

As he thought this, L's eyes lazily travelled towards the shop on the other side of the crossing – more specifically to a very familiar book.

He smirked, a boyish twinkle entering his eyes.

* * *

"A?" Eve asked warily, entering the unlocked door. Disconcerting scratching noises were coming from the bathroom. Pondering on how parts of her life were starting to resemble a horror film, she walked softly towards the source of the scratches and poked her head through the door.

A shrieked and jumped, brush stuck in her long, curly hair. Eve yelped in unison, cowering on the back wall.

"Oh, it's you," both panted, irritated.

"Why do you have your hair down?" Eve questioned, screwing up her eyes to see clearer. A made a little half-shrug, staring absently down at the end of her recently showered hair.

"Have you come to the Loser's Room for something other than offering condolences?" she said sourly, tirelessly resuming her activity.

Eve thought for a moment while sighing. "Yes. Yes, I have, actually,"

A even looked interested. "What?"

Eve tried to conjure up a genial smile. "Tea," she held up some bags.

* * *

Never was there a more awkward and tension-filled scene than two former rivals for an esteemed position courteously, if not joyfully, drinking tea together.

"Do you like Earl Grey then?" Eve awkwardly started.

"The taste is mildly appealing," A said snidely.

Another silence passed before A broke it this time.

"What are you going to do? After this?"

Eve squinted at her. "Well…be normal. Go to university. Get a job? How about you – though I guess this is a hard question since you expected to win," she said coldly back. She didn't feel like softening her verbal blows today.

A abruptly put down the cup. "Why are you so unperturbed by losing?" she looked up and met Eve's eyes. It was then that Eve noticed something else beside the ice behind them.

"I've lost countless times. In anything and everything. I'm used to it," she said casually.

A raised an eyebrow. "Are you joking?"

"Never," Eve scoffed, swigging the tea, glad that the tension was somewhat gone, although her eyes flitted to and fro.

"Y, are you claustrophobic?" Eve choked on the tea.

"Why do you say that?" she spluttered.

"You distinctly didn't volunteer to shut the police officer up in the store room – a small space. You seem nervous now. And you seemed very edgy when coming out of your _very small_ bathroom with L in tow…"

Eve winced awkwardly. "Well, that was…"

"Are you claustrophobic then?" A said once more, as impassively as she had started. Eve made an uncomfortable expression, before nodding resignedly.

"It doesn't affect me as it does some people," she explained.

"Does L know?" Eve shrugged.

"It's one of those things where you don't know if he's being smart or flippant," A looked disapprovingly at her vague answer. She sighed, and rested her tea on the coffee table.

"Well, since you're here, you can tell me something. About B,"

"He's gone again, right?"

"I do not think that he will get into trouble," she said thoughtfully. "But even so, you are more likely to have a better emotional understanding of the common adolescent. Now, tell me,"

Eve leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"Why might B keep a gun in his bedside drawer?" Eve blinked. As A said this, she softly stood up and gingerly held the cheap revolver beside B's bed.

Eve gulped. "Maybe…for self-defence?" she weakly started.

"B has been acting in a very unhinged manner lately," A said quietly, coldly staring at the gun that her hand unnaturally gripped. "Do you think that it is possible that there would be a plausible reason to carry this apart from his inherent madness?"

Eve backed up on the sofa, eyes fixed on the gun. "A, can I see it?"

A's eyes betrayed a hint of fear. "Why would you want to take this and see it? You can see it perfectly well from there," Both her and Eve realised at that moment the gravity of the situation.

"A, let's talk. Put the gun down, sit here, and try and let me talk you out of this. This can be sorted out very, very easily," Eve said, reaching out her arms instinctively to pull her companion down.

"Talk me out of what?" she demanded, stepping back.

Eve squirmed with a desperate expression on her face. "I…well, you…might…you know…"

"No, I _don't_ know, Eve. For once in my life, I _don't_ know what you're thinking – would you care to explain it for the benefit of the other idiot in this room?" A spat, her eyes widening.

There was a tense silence as A held the gun out of her reach and Eve's eyes flitted to and fro. Without warning, she launched up from the sofa and into A, sending her to the ground. After Eve's knees landed, she swiped the gun, leapt up again and took cover behind the sofa.

A quavering, pathetic sob floated up from A's willowy body. Eve screwed up her eyes, willing herself to remain in the painfully enclosed space as A's sobs multiplied.

"Please…Eve…Evey…just give it…to me…you don't know…what you're doing…" she wailed.

"I'm not doing the stupid things here," Eve said more bluntly than she had intended to. "Let's talk," she said more gently. "We can sort this out, if you want to. I won't tell anyone what you just did, and, and, and maybe we could also sort out universities, or jobs, or whatever! Just…let's try, okay?" she tried to reason.

After an appalling silence, A started to rise in the manner of a rusty marionette, each limb swaying loosely and seemingly having no strength in them. When she looked up, her eyes were painfully red – and she resolutely remained where she was.

"I'm not sure why I'm crying now," she chokingly said, forcefully wiping her eyes.

Eve half-smiled, part encouragingly, part queasily.

"After all, I only wanted the gun to make it quick. I just have to wait a little longer, and it'll all be…" Eve's smile faded dramatically.

"What did you do?!" she half-shouted, leaving the gun by the sofa to run up to A and forcibly shake her.

"Painkillers. If you take enough, they kill all the pain in the world," she said softly, staring at her rival's angry eyes.

"You are…this is…I'm gonna get help," Eve forced out, striding towards the door.

"Stay with me," A said pitifully. Her long hair framed her face more gently than the harsh line of her cheekbones that were usually exposed – she looked much more feminine, and the way her eyes were still watery, her cheeks still red and her posture crumpled only served to emphasise this fact.

Eve's resolve crumbled. "Let's sit down," she choked, hand holding her head. A obligingly pushed one of the sofas all the way to the wall, and hopped in as L would have done. Her bloodshot eyes stared Eve down until she reluctantly crawled into the tiny space. Once in a good position, she hoisted her knees up to her chin and refused to look at either the wall, the sofa or A.

The clicking of the safety catch harshly woke her out of her stupor. Eve's head flicked upward to see A, gingerly holding the gun that Eve didn't see her taking up to her temple, sweeping back her long hair to get a clearer shot.

"I lied," she murmured, eyes briefly taking in her surroundings. "For someone that claims to have superior emotional intelligence, you are extremely poor at finding lies,"

Eve started to lose her breath, a trembling hand starting to try and take the gun back.

"Please, Eve," she said. Eve vaguely noticed the lack of tears in her eyes while her breathing quickened again. "Are you really going to stop me?"

"Lemmeout," Eve gasped. "Pleaseohplease, lemmeout. Now!" she tucked in her knees further as she started unconsciously rocking back and forth.

"Shhh," A said soothingly, Eve startlingly looking up at the sudden affection.

In time for her to pull the trigger.

**A/N: PLEASE R&R…**


	14. Chapter 14: Response

"She's…dead?" B said dumbfounded by the door. Wammy blocked his way inside.

"We've done enough already to not attract the attention of the police – they'll have some trouble identifying her, after all," he fretted. "Near found Eve in the room along with the body – she's gone now, and L…" B unintentionally flinched at his name.

"Do you mind…?" he grunted with a hint of hostility, gesturing at the doorway. Wammy backed away apologetically as B stepped in.

He dizzily walked towards the uncovered corpse, the used gun on the floor beside her. He inhaled to regain balance, but instantly regretted in as the smell of dried blood became apparent.

A's eyes were glassy, and partly shaded with strands of hair. The sticky red substance coated her scalp and her limp arms gently lingered on the gun next to her. She remained in her customary kneeling position.

B stood stock-still staring at his former partner. He forced himself to walk closer until he jumped as he heard a snuffling noise.

He peered (uncomfortably) over the corpse to look at Nate under the arm of the sofa, fiercely gripping his knees, his toys strewn on the floor. B was disturbed to find a smidgen of sympathy for the boy, before wrenching his attention back to A.

"Why did you just leave her out like that?" he demanded of Wammy, although his voice was more croaky than threatening.

"We thought you might want to close her eyes," Wammy quietly replied in the manner of an undertaker.

"We?" B asked.

"L came looking for Eve. He suggested that we waited until you came," B coldly stared at him.

_L again._

He turned his head to the task at hand. Wammy had seen too many times as he worked for his country when one friend, relative or even lover had to leave another. He observed that there were a few expected reactions; that of doing the farewell process briskly and quickly before losing composure; of shedding bucket loads of tears and making empty promises; or of simply taking too long so that in some situations, they were killed too.

B knelt, and took an agonisingly long time simply staring at the girl, hand reaching up and flopping back down occasionally as if the task was too great. Eventually he gently touched her limp hair.

"I'm sorry," B's words, although quiet, reverberated against the walls. "For everything," he finally finished, closing her eyes. A looked more peaceful than B had ever saw her, and it was the knowledge of this that made him shoot up and stride past Wammy out the door.

"Don't you want your gun back?" Wammy sniped. B stopped.

"A told me to get one when I got to Queens'. For self-defence. But she knew I'm more a knife person," he hurriedly said as Wammy's incredulous face turned to face his.

"I resign," B pushed past, running out into the night.

* * *

L had just missed Eve running out of the apartment, and now, after finding out what had happened, he was hell-bent on finding her.

He had suspected for a long time that Eve was claustrophobic, but neither had the good sense to mention it in conversation. He deduced that Eve would have most likely sought the most open space, and therefore headed to the nearest park.

Of course, L was helplessly diverting his attention from the disturbing sight of A's corpse and the sheer sickness that accompanied it. He recognised feelings of guilt and regret, but considering the way it was physically affecting him, it could have just as easily been an illness as far as he was concerned.

He made a mental note to consider Wammy as he trudged onward, effortlessly vaulting over the park gate and jogging up the hill. He soon found Eve gripping herself with cold, but otherwise sitting with a relaxed posture on a bench at the top of a hill.

"Eve," he breathed hesitantly as he reached the top. Eve flinched, but apart from that gave no response. She wore very thin clothes including a skirt (L presumed she had changed to get the scent of blood off them) and was shivering badly, although this didn't seem to bother her, as her expression remained blank and hollow.

L sat down hesitantly, without tucking in his knees and shuffled slightly closer towards his pale companion. Eve instinctively leant against him for warmth.

"I'm sorry for being cold this afternoon, if I was," L began, beginning to feel so himself.

"Not any more," Eve murmured. L looked away in irritation as he flushed. "Sorry for being pathetic and emotional," Eve sarcastically replied.

L peered over at her unwavering gaze at the landscape. "You did what you could,"

"Yet for some reason, she managed to shoot herself while I was _right there in front of her_," she asserted, withdrawing further into herself. "The stupid..."

"Every fear is inherently stupid," L hastened to reassure. Eve, however, didn't seem convinced, and her grip on her arms tightened. L desperately listed all the tactics he could employ mentally.

"There is a reason that I hold things delicately...if you must know," he said, for once truthfully. Eve was unmoving, but L knew from experience that she was probably listening anyway.

"When I was younger, I had a fight with someone over a picture in a picture frame, and it ended up with me gripping it too hard – it broke, and the glass fragments cut my finger. It happened again when I was drinking tea. Unfortunately, this habit of mine still exists, and seems to show delicacy rather than the true attributes I hold,"

"You're not delicate?" Eve said, confirming L's suspicions.

"Well, I don't believe so," L replied ruefully.

Eve's eyes were still glazed, still concentrating on something else. But her mouth twitched in a familiar smile, before sardonically saying, "Did you really think that revealing a secret about you to me that might not even be true would magically make me go back to normal again?"

L sighed. "I assumed that it would comfort you to know that even someone like me had irrational fears," he retorted stingily. Eve made a small snort at the blatant arrogance – although this left L confused.

"It's not very logical to assume something, isn't it?" she sounded out. L's face belied a flash of annoyance.

"You're being very childish," he snapped, before realising his position on the matter. "Should I go?" he said more gently.

"If you want," Eve replied, surly. L was more reluctant to go than he would admit to himself, though, and remained.

"Does close contact induce your claustrophobia?" Eve flinched at the word, but she shrugged.

"Not normally," she finally moved her head to face her companion. "If it did, then I would have pushed you off, right?" she said softly. L realised that her face was still undeniably pale, and her eyes still bloodshot.

They shuffled closer simultaneously, and more through slight shock than anything else leaned against each other after bumping.

"I'm sorry," Eve said stiffly, still uncomfortable with the situation. "Everything today's been my fault, and I'm only making things worse by going AWOL," she said bitterly.

There was a comfortable pause this time, while both teenagers mulled things over.

"I like this side to you," Eve said haltingly. "You're not normally like this,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…you, uh, are kind like you were before I left. For starters," she began.

Although L was stung, he dismissed the comment. "So you're saying I'm schizophrenic?"

Eve's smile had come back, and was staying. "Are you L, or Master Lawliet now?"

L seriously thought it over, before finally admitting that he was not sure. "Do you think A had two sides?" Eve suddenly said.

The way that she used the past tense so unashamedly and unhesitatingly stirred some form of worry inside L, but nonetheless he went on.

"If she did, she hid it very well," he said, looking to see Eve's reaction. She shot out of the bench suddenly, jolting L and strode over to the nearest tree.

He waited patiently for her shoulders to stop shaking and the almost inaudible sobs to fade as he rose to lead her home.

* * *

Nate's eyes weren't really red, but Mihael and Matt knew what had happened and also knew better than to be fooled by a 7-year-old.

"Are you okay?" Matt gently enquired, with a bit of awkwardness in his voice.

Nate said nothing, staring stubbornly at the wall. Mihael abruptly leaned his face to scrutinise Nate's expression – he recoiled in response.

"See – this guy isn't human! He doesn't feel _anything_ about that girl killing herself,"

Nate glared back with a ferocity that stunned Mihael. "It's just as well that being moved by emotion isn't a prerequisite for the job then, isn't it? Of course, on the other hand…"

He poignantly stared at Mihael, who shot up in disgust and went off in a huff. Matt pulled him out the door to get into the car waiting to take them to the airport. Nate uncrumpled himself, leaving the Superman figure A had given him behind, under the table.

Mello and Near easily adjusted themselves to start a new life.

Matt reluctantly followed, GameBoy with him all the way.

Jack worried at home.

* * *

Eve was in bed at last. She could now safely investigate the piece of paper marked 'COIL' in the bough of the tree at Prospect Park.

_I find that the practical ones who are willing to act are better than the ones who prefer to let others do their dirty work for them – they get the sweetest fruit of the tree._

_Come alone._

_Renaldo Loci_

It listed an address near the SoHo area of Manhattan. Eve vaguely thought whether she should tell L, but instead she quickly stored it in a drawer after memorising the location.

She _would_ do something by herself for once.

**A/N: Bit short this time, but trying to get at least another chapter up before going on holiday...!**


	15. Chapter 15: Meetings

B stumbled across the street, narrowly avoiding a delivery truck, whose driver shouted expletives and bird flipped him. B didn't notice.

As his mind was very hazy, the only messages from his body that he registered were primal needs. As a result of this, hunger dominated his conscious thoughts.

As he rounded a corner, he saw a supermarket worker wheeling various trolleys of boxes in and out of the storeroom. While the supermarket worker didn't see him, B darted into the truck, grasped two random boxes, and ran for as far as he could go before his knees gave way.

He slid down the wall and onto the dingy pavement, breathless with fright and mild adrenaline, and finally opened one of the boxes.

It was completely filled with strawberry jam.

B giggled giddily. "Henh…of all things…henh henh…"

He opened one jar, stuck his hand in, and slurped the substance into his mouth. It tasted better than he thought it would, and he eagerly licked the rest of it from his hand. It was then that he saw the other box.

Considerably smaller than the other, it had had lots of bruises and tape wound most of the exterior. B opened it without any difficulty.

It revealed 5 straw dolls – they had buttons for eyes and wool for hair. He curiously looked around to see that the rest of the straw dolls had 'escaped' out of yet another hole in the box.

He ran for a further 3 blocks to escape the trail before inspecting the remaining properly. 4 were identical 'boys', wool hair sticking out haphazardly and eager stitched smiles made B blink.

The fifth one was face down in the corner of the box – the 'female' one, with a long woollen plait that was draped on her shoulder. It bore no smile (probably ripped off by circumstances), and was truly unique from the rest of the batch.

He cackled with irony for precisely one minute before abruptly falling silent, smile twitching on his face.

_L._

As he fed himself jam and sniffed while doing so, he formulated a truly _legendary_ plan for revenge. Lavish. Large. Law-breaking. Laudable.

Law. Breaking. LB.

He laughed again, and again, feeding himself jam, and crying at the disapproving doll all the while.

* * *

"I'm going out for a film with Jack," Eve abruptly said the next afternoon. L looked up harshly. "I'll call you if I think I'll be late," she swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Why has Jack sought your affections now, of all times? What with Mello, Near and Matt in England, anyone could think that he has to worry about himself rather than his social life," L said stingily.

"Ask him," she replied icily. "I _like_ his company and I don't really have anymore to do now, do I?" she quickly left and locked the door behind her.

L was instantly suspicious.

* * *

Eve didn't expect that Coil's residence (or hideout, really) would be mansion-like, but given his previous addresses to her and the rest of the teenagers, the small childish part of her brain maintained the fantasy that it would be.

After waiting near St John's Church for a while, a tall, lean man with a trench coat came up behind her and prodded her along until they reached a basement flat – she made sure to softly tread the stairs without making any kind of clanging noise.

"Even expected visitors have to knock, you know," a deep voice emerged from behind her. Eve resisted the urge to scream as she recognised 'Renaldo's' voice.

She walked in as calmly as she could before almost tripping over the wires. The Hispanic face was undeniably gaunter, had more stubble and was generally more worn than what she had seen the last time, but still wore that cocky smile of his as he warned her to be careful. "Don't you think there might be someone living with me?"

She followed the wires into a large room, filled to the brim with huge computers and television screens – she saw the surveillance feed coming from the two entrances of both her flat and A's flat and instantly rounded on Coil, who shrugged in an undeniably European way.

"I'm your rival, right? I have to make sure I am completely up to date on what my rivals are doing, or rival,"

Eve observed that the bags under Coil's eyes were much more pronounced than L's ever had been.

"I am interested in this boy, see," Coil strode over to the computers, brushing past Eve's shoulder, tapped a few keys, and one of the screens instantly showed up L's figure walking out of the house. "He won – and I gather that one other has committed suicide, another has ran away, and another…is here," he said amusedly.

Eve remained silent and tight-lipped. The only thing she was here for was to ask _him_ questions rather than to answer his.

"Are you truly here only to redeem yourself over the Montefiori case? Or are you just here to exploit L, Wammy and I so much so that it causes our number to … diminish?" She carefully worded her question.

Coil thought it over. "Well worded, madam," he finally replied. "But do you know what you're doing? More to the point, do you know what you're doing here?"

Eve let out her breath in a hiss. She had anticipated these questions, but not necessarily prepared for them.

"I am here to ask you a few questions, after which I will call the police and ask them to apprehend the mastermind of the attacks between Queens' and Jacks' – Renaldo Loci," she accused. Coil now was silent, and cocking his head to make it look like he was thinking. Eve had him pinned, especially since she was right next to the cordless phone.

"To delay my decision, Mr Coil… Why are you here?" she asked diplomatically, hand still lingering on the phone. The damned man was _still_ mulling it over.

Finally he answered. "Do you want the truth, or what you'll want me to say?"

Interested, Eve played along. "What do you think you'll want me to say?"

"That I came here to investigate this case for petty revenge on Wammy," he reached for something behind another computer – another phone. "Sorry, kid. This is the phone that works," he smiled cockily. Eve looked to her left to realise that indeed the phone wasn't even connected to the wall socket. Damn.

"I'm really here for a much, much better motive, though," he admitted. As Eve backed up against the wall, he came alarmingly close, showing a youthful sparkle in his wide eyes, as he said,

"I'm here to carry out God's decree," he said, awe in his whispered words and breath. "And I invited you here to seek my heir,"

* * *

L wondered whether it was right to sneak into her companion's bedroom before remembering that he had done it once before.

It remained scant of possessions, and he desperately looked in the drawers for Jack's number before the phone rang of its own accord. He lunged across the bed to answer it, and the caller was momentarily alarmed at the breathless that accompanied the answer, "Yes?"

"Uh…this is Jack Cross, is this Mr Byrd?" L overlooked that he had almost cunningly hid the fact that 'L' lived here, and instantly confirmed his question.

"Where's Eve?" he demanded. There was a pause, a worried pause on the other end of the line.

"I was going to ask you that question…" he slowly sounded out. L's eyes widened. "Eve told me to call you guys around this time to sort out our date tomorrow…?"

"You're not having a date tomorrow," L said curtly.

"Hey! That's not…" Jack began to protest.

"Eve's missing," L opened the last drawer, and grasped the crumpled piece of paper. "Where's 917a St John? …Street, presumably?"

L could even hear the disgruntled noise that Jack emitted. "I dunno. Why don't you check a map," he said, sarcasm dripping from his dry tones. L sighed irritably, walking swiftly to his desk and pulling out one while still on the phone.

"There _is_ a St. John's Church near SoHo…?" Jack sounded out.

"But what's the 917a for…?"

"You're thinking too much. Again." Jack dryly said. It was then that L turned the paper over to read Coil's message. "…Oh," Jack said numbly.

"What?"

"917…it's the area code for that area – whatever, it's not important," he dismissed his idea.

"No, it isn't, it hasn't got enough numbers, has it?" L replied.

"Touchy touchy. Hold on, it's 917a St John, right?"

"Yes."

"No 'street' or 'avenue' or anything like that?"

"…" L suddenly had a brainwave, and would have rocked with the force of it were it not for the fact that he was already cocooned in a sofa. "Jack, I'm hanging up,"

"What…" Click.

He picked up the phone to see the keys.

* * *

"God's work?" Eve said reluctantly. "Sorry, I'm an atheist,"

"Oh, ye of little faith," he said sardonically, dramatically striding across the room, cordless telephone still in his hand.

Eve stared awkwardly at him. Coil had to be deranged.

"What do you know of the Montefiori case anyway?" Eve's eyes hardened.

"Well – let's see. You get involved in a case in Naples which involved apprehending key members of a prominent Italian drug chain,"

Coil nodded.

"You and the local police disagreed on many matters, and you announced you would give up the case,"

Nod nod.

"And then, mysteriously, _all_ of the gang members disappear on one night and the bodies are never found,"

Reluctant nod.

"And then follows a period of all the inhabitants of Naples and the surrounding area experiencing drug withdrawal symptoms – the suicide rates soar and some people don't even know what's happening. The government had to do a special health care plan to remedy all this,"

No nod.

"I had nothing to do with the Montefiori tragedy,"

"But you did have something to do with the Montefiori murders," Eve maintained.

"They were righteous kills," he said coldly. He smirked then without warning, as if responding to another.

"I do not like the thought of the other boy – L – taking my position when I am gone," he swirled around to face Eve once more, who backed away, fearful. "I want the loser to do it,"

Eve's face was tired. "Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"I am sent from God to do his dirty work," he pronounced.

"Did you get a message?" Eve stalled for time while eyeing the phone which now hung very loosely from Coil's hand.

"I did," his eyes lit up, and without Eve even seeing him, grasped her arm and led her to another room. "I was, am fed up with Wammy's orders. Solve this. Talk that. Visit here. Go there. It drives you nuts," he knocked his head playfully.

"I ran away because I didn't really want to be a part of Wammy's detective cultivation plan," he admitted. "And the stress of the job drove my partner to her death – who knew when I could have been driven to do the same?"

Eve's eyes widened uncomfortably. "Wammy…that?" she said incredulously.

"But before anything else, I should introduce you to my messenger. When I visited B, did he notice anything strange about me?" Eve's eyes glazed, remembering something.

"Something went wrong with his eyes," she thought aloud. Coil nodded encouragingly.

"He couldn't see…your death date…" she whispered, aware that Coil was listening.

"Nadyan wasn't lying after all!" he said gleefully. "Take the Book,"

"I…uh…think I'll be…"

"You only need to touch it," he held out a thin black notebook, and just as she reached forward, the telephone rang.

Coil looked at the handset strangely, and answered it.

"…Hello?"

"This is L. I believe you have something of mine," a angry voice said firmly.

**A/N: Going to Japan for 2 weeks!! Will be working hard on this, of course. But no updates until then...! R&R please, as always.**


	16. Chapter 16: Answers and Accusations

Coil's smile was returning – but this time, it was admiring, wondrous, humoured – and at the same time, very much _beaten_.

"I have contacted the NYPD, who are at this very moment tracing this call. You will be apprehended on charges of masterminding the Queens' and Jacks' coordinated attacks, Mr Loci," L said, not without a hint of sarcasm.

"You figured out the code," Coil muttered. "I put it there for fun, but I didn't actually think that…"

"917a St John. 917 – 178 – 5646," L recited. "I would say that it was a well-played move, but I'm not so naïve as to carry on the game with a life possibly in the balance," he finished coldly. "How was she abducted?"

Coil raised an eyebrow, as did Eve.

"I am not under the jurisdiction to tell – do you think men survive the cruelties of the world by being frank to their enemy? After all, my sources are far and wide, Mr Byrd," Coil smoothly countered as L's mouth twitched to acknowledge on the CCTV cameras that he was being watched.

"I would hand the phone over to your companion, L," Coil began as Eve thrust her hand out impatiently (she did not understand the secret signal) as he calmly held up a finger, telling her to wait. "Unfortunately however, she is not in a position to do so – Eve's a very … _eager_ companion, isn't she? She was a bit too outspoken for my liking … what if she'd called you first?"

L's silence was stony. "You killed her?" his cold voice said louder than he had meant to.

Eve looked confused, and slightly angry. Coil mimed at her to wait.

"At the very least your sentence will be extended for wilful murder of an individual, Mr Loci," his voice exposed his belief that Coil was bluffing.

"Of course – an eye for an eye… but I have been known to escape the claws of controversy before, Byrd, you must know," Coil's voice was reminiscent of the mocking tones of Mrs King at St. Gerald's. L worryingly pushed the unwelcome thought out of his mind as he exhaled harshly, hanging up the phone.

"What was that?" Eve warningly said, reaching for the phone.

Coil brought up L's room on the largest computer screen – there was the muffled sound of L's bare feet furiously pacing around the apartment.

After a few minutes of silent pacing, he stopped and without warning slammed a clenched fist on the coffee table. Wammy flinched. A pause occurred before L fell into a couch and gripped fistfuls of hair – a burble of static turned out to be a despairing noise coming from the young man.

Eve's throat clenched at this sudden show of affection, and although dumbfounded at the development, still noticed Coil's damnable cocky smile. "I don't see what you hope to gain from this," she finally forced out, eyes glued to the screen.

"Do you want to call him? And end his suffering, tell him that you're safe and well?" Coil replied, ignoring the question. Eve's cynical self screamed suspicion, but she numbly reached for the cordless telephone and dialled the number.

She saw L abruptly rise and viciously pick the telephone up from the receiver (she even saw that he properly clenched the handset and his dainty ways were forgotten) and heard a gruff voice say, "Yes?"

Eve felt a rush of sudden warmth at the voice which caused bewilderment on her part, but nonetheless she replied. "L, it's me," she replied with a more personal touch, afterward mentally kicking herself for exposing a possible weakness in front of an enemy.

"Coil …"

"Oh, good. Now that you have raised my doubts about your death to 100%, we shall discuss on how you will escape," L returned to his clinical tone. Eve's brow furrowed.

"Hold on. You did all that…"

"Ah. I must admit that I do not like to take part in acts of a desperate nature, but I felt the situation called upon it," L replied in the same emotionless voice.

"You made … all that up?" Eve said incredulously, mouth opening slightly in unpleasant surprise.

"It was the best plan I could come up with under surveillance and extremely pressed for time. Now, Eve, the police are going to arrive in no later than a few minutes – it would be all the more advantageous for me to not have to pick you up from a cell,"

"See, I've done the same for you," Eve said in a cool tone that betrayed more fury than calm.

"Strictly speaking, Jack took your place while you tended to A," he retorted.

Eve screwed up her eyes shut and kneaded her forehead as the name (or initial) still struck a painful chord inside and the attitude she had towards her possible rescuer only made it worse.

"L," she stated as she slid down the wall, coming to a rough rest on the hard granite floor. "What do you want me to do?" She could even see the pleased look that L had on his face now that she had chosen to cooperate.

"Well," he began. "What are Coil's intentions regarding you as a hostage?"

"Um… well, he's definitely mentally unbalanced, but I don't think he means me any harm," Eve struggled to think rationally. The room was very small, and the computers looked too big, and they were coming closer, and Coil, her reluctant lifeline, was walking away, and…

Eve gulped down a retch and walked to a place nearer the front door with fresh air. "I see," L replied. "then I suppose I should leave this to your hands – but you must be out of the premises in 3 minutes," he finished.

"And then?" Eve curtly responded.

"Come back to the apartment and we'll have a discussion on why on earth you took Coil's bait," he frostily said.

"I don't think so," she replied, shaking her head at the thought of what she was going to say. She covered the receiver so that Coil wouldn't hear her muffled whispers. "Do you really expect me to work for you, when we used to be on the same level and you treating me like this?"

L's pause was short, but poignant. "I am treating you as I would do a work colleague and I see no reason why I should treat you any worse,"

Coil tapped his foot while whistling. The contact made a hollow sound, and on inspection by Eve, the drain that he had been tapping had a note taped to it.

Eve noticed the carefully worded answer by L though, and finally made her decision as L continued in a disappointed tone, "Eve, I really thought you had a more mature outlook to my appointment,"

"L – you'll be better off by yourself in work, and I can't see any point in looking for slots where you _aren't_ solving cases. I've been fired already but even so…" she inhaled.

* * *

L's eyes widened and practically chomped off the remainder of his thumbnail in shock.

"I know Wammy's listening, so my message is for both of you,"

"You can't go…" L numbly said, voice much quieter than before. His plan had completely and utterly backfired once more.

"Y, return here immediately and explain your conduct. You're behaving like an unreasonable child, and you don't know what on earth you're thinking, leaving your only sanctuary," Wammy said fiercely.

"No," she said with a more stable tone than before as she got more and more confident of her decision. "I feel sick when I think of what this whole thing is – just a scheme so you can hire 10 more detectives at a time and promote justice. But of course it didn't work – after all, it doesn't take a week, it doesn't take half an hour, to do that kind of thing, so of course you have to cultivate them from when they're born – so they don't develop any profound ideas of their own,"

L's eyes lost their shocked sheen and returned to the dullness of when they were deep in thought.

"I personally don't need the dubious sanctuary that you've offered – you said yourself that I'm capable of surviving in the world should I not be appointed. I'm going back to the house," the phone hung up.

"Eve!" L failed to bite back his cry. Wammy started to reach for the telephone himself.

* * *

"Take it. Please," Coil pleaded as he heard police sirens. Eve was still suspicious.

"Is it your diary, or something?" she asked, still a bit light-headed from the sudden turn of events. Coil chuckled as she reluctantly took the thin black notebook.

"You could say that," he said forlornly. "You really are unpredictable," he observed.

Eve turned around at the entrance. "People usually say otherwise," she said curiously.

"But not L, though, yes?" Coil was starting to become sloppy with his Spanish accent. "To think that even at this stage, you left a code for him to crack. Simply incomprehensible,"

"Shut up," Eve said hotly, although conceding his point. She curiously looked at the book, and then the open hatch towards the tunnel.

The note said it led to New Jersey, and she was inclined to believe him.

"Do you mind getting caught?" she asked somewhat politely. Coil stared wistfully at the computers, and, without turning the switches at the plug sockets off, opened another door to reveal canisters and canisters of something else.

"I give up my ownership when I start speaking my mother tongue," he muttered as he heard voices above him shouting. Shouting judgements from above – how apt. He smiled.

"Now if you don't mind," he finally looked at the girl descending the ladder. "I have a fire to start,"

* * *

"Yes, madam, it is not impossible to detain a person matching my description, however young she may be!" Wammy nearly shouted down the phone.

L had not moved from where he had last called Coil.

"Female, Auburn hair, about 5 ft 3 inches, around 16 years old… if you see her boarding on any flight that has the _possibility _of getting a connecting flight to England…"

L's lazy finger smoothly cut the connection of Wammy's phone call. He wheeled around, fury etched in his eyebrows and shining through his eyes.

"Right, young man. If you really believe you are doing good by interrupting my attempts to find Eve, then you do something,"

"Mr Wammy, I resign from this competition," L said dully. Wammy blinked.

"But … you've won. You can't really resign here,"

"I have a choice. You have indirectly caused 2 people to become mentally unstable and 1 person to even kill herself. That is liable for manslaughter. Along with the fact that you have pressured minors to the point of desperation – and it is almost certain that you have caused other deaths,"

Wammy sighed in exasperation. "Those were not my fault – you are being very childish…"

"I am a childish person, Mr Wammy. It is only logical that I behave in a childish manner – and it does not directly interfere with the important points in my work. You do know of Nadia Deneuve?" Wammy's lips tightened. "The promising young woman who hung herself out of extreme stress – and of course, the suicide that happened a few days ago?"

L wasn't completely sure how he managed to say this in his customary blank tone – he attributed it to the oddities of the human psyche. Or his human psyche.

"If Eraldo Coil turns out to have committed suicide, then you might receive 3 counts of manslaughter … with a strong prosecution counsel, the charge might turn into murder – not a promising end for a former SIS agent, I would have thought…"

"Shut up!" Wammy finally shouted. "Coil is a strong man…"

"As you said of D, A and B," he replied, reaching for a sugar cube as the telephone rang. L picked it up.

"Yes?"

"We're treating a male in his late 20s for smoke inhalation and second-degree burns – he also seems to be suffering from possible amnesia. But the description that you have given us matches the description to Renaldo Loci. Would you like to interrogate him yourself, Mr Wammy?"

L gave a poignant stare to the paling Wammy. "Thank you, sir. That will be sufficient – I will leave the questioning to your department and thank you for your endeavours,"

"And thank you, sir," the police officer said warmly. "But there is one thing that confuses us – he's suffering from amnesia, but he keeps muttering out a name, he keeps saying 'Nadia' … is there any known relative or loved one that bears that name that we could contact?"

Wammy cut the connection this time. His breathing was ragged and he repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.

"I am looking for a face to match an identity," L slowly said. Wammy didn't look up. "I am going to teach the world that although the person might exist to solve all the problems in the world – that fantasy will never happen. I will solve the cases that are interesting enough to warrant my cooperation, but along with that responsibility, I need someone to represent me in public – to my clients – so no one can judge the judge," L explained. "Eve is wrong – I cannot do this alone,"

Wammy's face, wracked with guilt, slowly rose.

"If you accept, you will lose your name except to your close friends and acquaintances, and become 'Watari'. The Japanese origin of the name will not match your Caucasian ethnicity and will keep up the omnipresence of the identity,"

"That's all very well, L," Wammy snapped. "But someone we both know and hold in high regard will leave the country without us getting to her if we don't phone Wammy's House directly!"

L smiled for the first time in a while.

"Not necessarily,"

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I am your temporary secretary (you will fire me after a week) and will adopt a false identity on the register. I will be under your direct responsibility and no other doctor, trainee or otherwise will question my presence. Please say yes," Eve said with a pale face.

House, with bloodshot eyes and fingers desperately gripping a crutch, glared at her with such venom that she flinched.


	17. Chapter 17: Something's Different

**OH MY GAWD IT'S THE FINAL CHAPTER**

House's eyes were different from before, somehow. Maybe they were harder, more pained and possibly more dulled than they were before. Glazed over, as if he was eternally thinking about something completely different from what he was supposed to. But Eve wasn't going to let this stop her.

Much to her surprise, a harsh smile stretched across his face in a flash, and just as quickly it was gone. "Well done, Miss Organized. Now all you have to do is prove to me somehow that teenagers can be viable secretaries. Although I would if I could. Female, too," he rambled, eyes playfully looking up to the ceiling.

"Just…" Eve replied, a bit disgusted and more confused. "Let me do this, and I'll…"

"Hold on. You're paying me back? A _minor_? Oh, it can't possibly get any better!" he scoffed, pointing at the girl. Eve fumed.

"That hospital crutch doesn't look so good on you, does it?" she coldly said. House flinched, which seemed to cause another, painful twitch, after which he massaged his leg desperately. "Do you have a private room where we could talk without me being seen by the CCTV cameras?" she said quietly.

"Confessions to make?" he said lightly, winking purposefully. Eve didn't miss the bead of sweat that trickled down his temple as he said this.

"Ew," she nonetheless replied, acting the part of a normal teenager. "You're disgusting,"

* * *

L finished writing down Eve's words from memory. Wammy had to remind himself not to be too overwhelmed from the young man's ability, and focussed on the task at hand.

"Numbers first. 10, a week, 30 minutes…" L muttered, circling different words in the paragraph. Now – things that are distinctly odd for a person that is a master at language," and he proceeded to circle 'sick' and 'house'.

"Why 'house'?" Wammy said confusedly, squinting at L's appalling handwriting.

"Why not 'home'?" L replied calmly. Wammy nodded reluctantly in concession, before nodding more quickly in realisation.

"House," he breathed in frustration. "Eve always respected him… and his hospital's in New Jersey!" he finally came to a conclusion. L patiently nodded.

"I propose that I visit her, once, alone," he continued. "Your presence as of late has done nothing but exacerbate matters," he said coldly.

Wammy seethed at being reprimanded as a master would to a servant by a young man more than half his age. "Is there anything more you would like to request save for my immediate absence?" he said sarcastically.

L childishly looked at the ceiling, slowly drumming his fingers on his chin. "There is another thing …"

Wammy flinched, disbelieving that L was willing to further challenge (the scraps of) his authority. "Some cake, perhaps? With some other bespoke decoration that would get me very demeaning looks as I go out the door with 5 boxes?"

L didn't miss the sarcasm, and coldly stared at Wammy, who froze.

"I'd like my letter," Wammy's mouth dropped open a little.

"You still …"

"I noticed it when you sorted out your briefcase. I like to believe that I'm old and mature enough – and by your standards, it means that I would definitely become a detective of sorts,"

Wammy didn't even bother to correct 'detective' to 'private investigator' this time, as he reached down.

* * *

Eve idly doodled on a notepad by House's desk as she, following strict orders, watched the telephone and went over their cover story.

On a separate page, she made scrawled notes on her future plans – things she needed to do – before a certain person found out where she was – and she needed a computer for that.

She took a few minutes to hack into House's computer (face wrinkling in distaste at what the password turned out to be) and roughly 10 more minutes to get into her bank account.

15 minutes later, she had transferred a more than adequate sum of money to a place where Wammy couldn't touch.

_Now, for…_ Her thoughts were interrupted by a fresh-faced doctor coming in without knocking.

"House, you're wrong again, the CAT scan showed that…" The eyes that always seemed to be filled with concern now glazed over with suspicion. He looked around confusedly.

"Dr. House is with my mom," Eve piped up in an American accent, fiddling with a pen.

The man, if possible, looked even more worried.

"She's his secretary," she hastily added. "Mom told me to take messages for Dr. House… Can I write anything down?"

"Uh…" he babbled. "Tell him … Wilson came by… with a CAT… wait a second, why does _House_ have a secretary?!" he said once more.

Eve shrugged unhelpfully after writing down 'Wilson'. The man dashed out leaving the scan unopened on the floor. She spun back on the wheelie chair to face the window – rain droplets skittered across the glass surface, creating odd reflections on Eve's face.

There was no indication so far as to whether L had understood her message or not. It didn't really matter if he didn't, but …

She couldn't finish the thought, and to take her mind off certain things, she decided to check the messages that weren't listened to on House's phone.

_Hi Gregory – this is Mom. I know you haven't … been well lately, but I have been very worried about you, and if you won't call to comfort your father, at least call for my sake._

'Call Mom'. Eve wasn't really listening as she heard the man that had come in a few minutes before ranting at House on the phone. However, the next message caught her attention.

_Greg – it's Stacy. I can't believe you won't even answer the phone now … then again, I probably should have expected it. Greg, I would have told you properly, but I get the feeling you're avoiding me. I'm leaving until you treat me like the person I am, and don't you _dare_ say that you are, because I'm not an unconcerned bitch who doesn't get that your leg hurts, and you can't live with that, and everything else … no matter what you say. And … I just can't live like this, I just …_

Eve didn't realise she was holding her breath until she let it out as House stormed into the office.

His pained face let out irregular gasps as he buckled involuntarily. His eyes were now unmasked, unleashing the raw pain, grief and suffering that he had endured for an indeterminable amount of pain.

With a small widening of those pained eyes and with the smallest of desperate gasps, he threw himself out of the glass door in search of Stacy.

* * *

L's eyes were actually twinkling, and the fingers that daintily held each piece of paper and photograph moved from sheet to sheet, to and fro.

Wammy could only look on in wonder and humility as the child he had first seen in the marbled room years ago had materialised again – and for once, the reason was not mathematical.

He himself had only caught a glimpse of 4 photographs and a short piece of paper, on which looked to be a small poem – but L had virtually snatched the bundle before he could have taken a closer look.

"Have you found your name?" Wammy coughed. He was curious to know as well, after all.

L's smile remained in place. "No," He stared at what he had written. "But he's definitely my father," He lunged for Matt's forgotten lighter, lighting it and held it close to the letter.

Wammy cautiously took steps forward, and encountering no resistance, peered over to see the front side of the letter.

_For my son – _

_Please take care of these as if they were your own, and when you are old enough, you will understand that sons were never meant to follow in their father's footsteps._

_Your father_

_Have you ever noticed that a katakana 're' is almost like an 'L'? NCF_

Indeed the back was covered with a series of 're's surrounding the logo of the letter, 'NCF'.

And it didn't take Wammy, with his advanced knowledge of the Japanese language to figure out some of the 're's were shaped oddly – if looked at from a distance, it almost spelt…

"L. Hi o tsukae. Use fire" The person mentioned had a toothy grin stretched across his face as he read the real message.

_I'm sorry in advance if I miss out points – I can't write properly after the things they put me through. Because of repercussions, I'll probably never be able to see you again. Don't follow me, and never trust anyone – appearances blind, whereas words reveal. I'm running out of space – so I suppose I'll have to end it here. _

_L – if you have any idea how long I've been thinking about you, then you'd hit me for shame, so don't think about me as much, if at all – but if you're as stubborn as your mother was, then that information will fall on deaf ears. _

_Lawrence Ryuzaki Lawliet _

Wammy looked back to see that L had his thumb running across both lips – his knees were tucked in slightly more, his posture slightly more hunched and eyes slightly more glazed.

After a while, he smiled, and this one was different to before. Instead of a child-like, innocent variety, it was more worn, battered in a sense and definitely, sadly, mature.

"Trust him to use Oscar Wilde," Wammy offered.

"Why, was he like him?"

"Not … hm," Wammy pointedly left it there. "It's almost 10 pm, don't you want to visit someone without me?"

L slid off the couch and reluctantly put his shoes on as he gently fingered a package.

* * *

Eve seemed more scared – it might have been the cold, but he could have sworn she was shivering from something else.

"You look pale," he started with.

"Do I?" she remarked absently.

"Is there any way I can persuade you to come back?" L tried, knowing the answer already. She slowly shook her head.

After an awkward pause, he realised he was losing time – why this worried him, he didn't know.

"I got my letter," L remarked. This garnered a reaction, her familiar bright eyes (something was still different though) calmly blinked up at him.

"Did you like the contents?" she asked. L smiled, almost warmly, and in the overcast weather, it was a welcome change to his partner, who smiled in turn.

"I …" he coughed uncomfortably. "I have something for you. I meant to give it to you before, but I never… really …"

"Got round to it?" Eve grinned, gladly taking the package and opening it. Her eyes widened.

"… Debussy?" she mouthed curiously.

"You were playing it in England, and I remember you saying that you didn't know the rest," L explained. Eve's face coloured as her eyes lit up.

"I don't even know if I'm ever going to see a piano now, but … thanks for the sentiment," she struggled to give her thanks.

"What sentiment?" L said flatly. Eve chuckled.

"Did you get to know your name?" she finally managed, spurred on by the comforting atmosphere. L shook his head.

"Not my real one," he replied. "As far as anyone is concerned, 'L' is my name – and my father seems to think so as well,"

Eve's eyes filled with more wonder and curiosity than before, if it were possible. "Have you guessed mine yet?" L admitted to the contrary. "I'm surprised – I thought this was one puzzle you wouldn't put down," she playfully said.

"I'm not very good with names," L said somewhat sheepishly, Eve outright laughing this time. The sound was so rare to L's ears, and he mentally stored it in his memory, ready to be re-played at another time.

"I'm changing my name once I get out of the hospital – so you're the only one that will ever know," she finally said, and stretched up to whisper it in his ear. L's eyes relaxed, as they always did after gaining another scrap of knowledge from the jaws of obliviousness and, taking advantage of her position, shunted to the right, causing her to lean against his shoulder.

She didn't complain.

Until L reached back for the book, taking a pencil from his pocket. He turned to the 25th page as Eve looked on, and, holding the pencil properly, wrote with difficulty.

Y. Y. Yvetta Yules.

Eve this time vocally protested. "What did I tell you just now?"

"Your name?"

Eve smacked him on the side of his head as L recoiled. "… I'm not rubbing it out," he wheedled.

Eve huffed, and hastily put the book back, leaning herself on L's shoulder once more.

Approximately 10 minutes had past, when Eve talked once more.

"L… There's something I have to tell you... I mean, I don't know if this is crazy, but…"

L's stomach sank as low as it could get, expecting something ... unwelcome. A had gone. B had gone. And now…?

"You know B's eyes? What they really can do?" L remained stonily staring at the building opposite. The pattern on the bricks. Anything to help him concentrate. "They can... read people's names, just by looking at them. And the day that people would die," Eve said with difficulty, and although her strengthening hold on L's arm didn't cease, she looked quickly in the opposite direction, as if regretting what she had said.

"You're imagining things," L said coldly, Eve nodding instantly.

"One more thing, then..." it seemed that she was struggling to pull herself together - an even more worrying sign of insecurity and of possible mental unbalance. "Do you think that … that Shinigami … exist?" her pale face reappeared, and the shaking that was seen before was now exposed to be fear. L froze.

"Shinigami?" he said in a hollow manner.

"Death Gods," she replied, staring at his face, willing him for an answer.

"Eve…" he struggled for an answer. _It is logical to assume that a character which I place trust in like this would be telling the truth – a lie is out of the question due to her current disposition._

Suddenly, he remembered his letter. _Appearance blinds, whereas words reveal._

"Imagining fantastical things is a sign of mental unbalance," he said.

Eve sagged. "I suppose it is – but it seems so …" unseen to L, her fingers ran across the top of the black diary that belonged to Coil.

L's head was furiously dishing out options. However, all of them came to the conclusion that Eve was going down the same road as the other two.

And it was not advantageous for him to witness and therefore indirectly experience 3 mental unbalances in his 3 most trusted colleagues when he was just starting the job.

"It's half-past," he said brusquely, getting up - although he gently pryed himself off Eve.

"I knew you would go like this," she said ruefully, eyes almost glaring at the young man. "If I promise to not shoot myself…"

"I can't trust you if you can't even trust your own senses," he finally said, looking at the young woman for the last time.

"Right," she murmured distantly, briskly walking back to the hospital.

L stayed for another 10 minutes, assuaging himself with thoughts of 'she's unbalanced' on the way home.

* * *

B sleeps – he is now looked upon as the scary hobo on the street who giggles at random passers-by. It's hard sleeping rough in New York City, but he does so anyway, spurred on at the prospect of revenge and still possessing the stern-faced plaited doll in his left pocket.

--

Wammy sleeps fitfully – he's finally getting the impression that he needs to change his ambitions, maybe take them away altogether. His fortunes changed in one minute – and to become the face that matches the identity, he'd need to change a few things about himself as well.

--

Eve sleeps – the meeting had its highs and lows, and the mysterious being is still lurking at the foot of her bed. Tomorrow, she'll leave a bit of her newly-gained money for House and his cane – she'll use the bulk of it to get a flight to London, and start off from there.

--

L can't sleep – and will probably find it harder later on. He polishes off sweet after bonbon after toffee after fudge, and leaves the strawberry cheesecake for last. He doesn't think anymore about his meeting, except for the tranquil and warm feeling that he associated with his first friend.

Maybe as he grows up, he will forget what 'tranquil' and 'warm' meant to him, and 'Eve' will just become the woman who followed her temptation and let down everyone close to her.

His voice scrambler is on the coffee table and the bulky computer has registered his hacking of a leading world government official's database. Conveniently, it is showing figures at the bimonthly meeting of the ICPO.

"Where's Coil…?!" another speaks. "And what the hell is this?"

"Just to get you listening," Although L barely is. He adjusts his position, swatting the sweet wrappers and various letters away. "Greetings, gentlemen,"

"I am L."

**FIN**

**Thanks for the reviews that some people gave!! =DDD They made orangey very very happy. **


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